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A N 



ADDRESS, 



DELIVERED AT LEXINGTON, 



ON THE 19TH (20TH) APRIiL. 1SS5. 



BY EDWARD EVERETT. 



^ CHARLESTOWN : 

rOBLltHZO MY WILILIAM W. WHBlLDOJf. 

1835. 



A N 



ADDRESS, 



DELIVERED AT LEXINGTON 



ON THE 19TH (20TH) APRIL, 1835, 



BY EDWARD EVERETT, 



I-' .U.S.A. 



C-0 CHARLESTOWN: 

rUBLlSHRD BY WILLIAM W. WHEII.DON. 

1835. 



WJ•^^v/,^^A^^ 



V 






Lexington, Afril 22, 1835. 
Dear Sir, — By the uiianimoiis desire of tlio citizens of Lexington, we tender 
to you tiieir cordial thanks lor your eloquent address, delivered at this place, on the 
20lh instant, in cominemoratiun of (he events of the ever memorable 19th of April 
1775, and request a copy for the press. 

We cannot, sir, withhold an expression of our individual, earnest wishes that 
you will gratify them with the perusal of an address, in which the patriotic virtues 
of the first martyrs to American Independence, and the great principles of civil lib- 
erty, are so justly aiul so eloquently portrayed. 

With tliG highest resi)ect, we have the honor to be 
Your frionds and fellow ciiizeiis, 

ELIAS i'llIXNEY, J 

SAMiJEL CHANDLER. > Committee. 

BE.\JAJH.\ MUZZV. ) 

Hun. EuwARD Everett. 



Charlicstown, Mass. May 7, 1835. 
(JKNTt.EMiiN, — In compliance with the request of the citizens of Lexington, 
communicated in your note of tlie 20Ui nit., I have furnished for publication, a copy 
of the address, dclivcnd by liieir invitation, on the 20th. 

With my tlianUs fur the obliging terms, in which you have been pleased to ex- 
press yoursehcs, on the subject, I have tlie honor to be. 

Gentlemen, most rcspcclfully, your friend and fellow citizen, 

EDWARD EVERETT. 
Eiias Phiniit\v, Esq. ^ 

(ien. Samuel <'baiullcr, ■ (oiiiiiiitiee. 
Ccnjumin Muzzy, V-^i}. y 'Nk 



A D D R E S S 



Fellow Citizens, 

At the close of sixty years, we are assem- 
bled to commemorate the eventful scenes of the op- 
ening revolution. We have come together, to cele- 
brate the affecting incidents, which have placed the 
name of this beautiful village, on the first page of the 
History of our Independence. The citizens of a 
free, prosperous, and powerful Republic, we come 
to pay the last honors to the memory of those, who 
offered themselves up, on this spot, the first costly 
sacrifice in the cause of American Liberty. In the 
day of our peace and safety, in the enjoyment of 
the richest abundance of public and private blessings, 
we have met together to summon up in grateful re- 
collection the images of that night of trial, — of fearful 
anticipation, of high and stern resolve, — and of that 
morning of blood, which, to the end of time, will 
render the name of Lexington sacred to the heart of 
the American Freeman. 

Sixty years have passed away : — two full returns 
of the period, assigned by the common consent of 
mankind, to one of our transitory generations. I 
behold around me a few, — alas! how few, — of those, 
who heard the dismal voice of the alarm bell, on the 
19th of April, 1775, and the sharp angry hiss of the 
death vollies from the British lines. Venerable men! 
We gaze upon you with respectful emotion. You 

A 



have reached an age allotted to the smallest portiox^^i 
of our race, and your grey hairs, under any circum- 
stances, would be entitled to our homage. As the 
survivors of the militia of Lexington, who, on the 
19th of April, 1775, were enrolled in defence of the 
rights of America, and obeyed the alarm, ivhich 
called you to defend them,, we regard you as objects 
at once of admiration and gratitude. But when w^e 
reflect that you, a small and venerable remnant of 
those, who first took the field in the dawn of that 
Revolution which wrought out the liberty of the 
country, have been spared,, not merely to see that 
revolution brought to a triumphant close, but to 
witness the growth of that country to its present 
palmy height of prosperity and power, we feel 
tliat you are marked out by a Peculiar Providence,, 
above all the rest of your fellow citizens. But 
Avhere, oh, where are your brave associates ? Sevea 
of them, who, full of life, and vigor, and patriotic 
daring, stood side by side with you, sixty years ago 
on this ever memorable spot, are gathered, — ^what 
is mortal of them, — in that mournful receptacle. — 
Others laid down their lives lor this country in the 
hard fought and honorable fields of the revolution- 
ary war. The greater part have stolen away, one 
by one and in silence, and lie beneath the scattered 
hillocks of yonder grave-yard. Eleven only sur- 
vive, — ten alone are present, — to unite with us in. 
the touching rites of this honored anniversary. May 
the happy contrast in your own existence on the 
great day we commemorate, and on this its sixtieth 
return, and in the position and fortunes of our belov- 
ed and common country, prove an ample compensa- 
tion lor your anxieties and perils, and fill the close 
of your days with peace and joy!' 

* See in nolo A, the roll of Capt, ParUci's comiaiiy of Lexington Militia, wittn 
lUe uamcs of the £iii\ivors indicalcti, 



Fellow citizens of Lexington, you arc discharging; 
your duty; — a fdial, pious duty. The blood which 
wet these sods on the day you celebrate, must not 
sink uncommemorated into the soil. It is your birth- 
right; your heritage; the proudest you possess. Its 
sacred memory must be transmitted by your citi- 
zens, from father to son, to the end of time. We 
come to join you, in this solemn act of commemora- 
tion. Partakers of the blessings, for which your 
fathers laid down their lives, we come to join you 
in these last aifecting obsequies. And when all now 
present shall be passing — passed — from the stage; 
when sixty years hence., we, who have reached the 
meridian of life, shall have been gathered to our 
fathers, and a few only of these little children, 
shall survive, changed into what we now behold 
in the grey heads and venerable forms before us, 
let us hope that it may at least be said of us, that 
we felt the value of the principles, to v/hich the day 
is consecrated, and the cost at which they were 
maintained. 

We perform a duty, which is sanctioned by reason 
.•and justice. It is the spontaneous impulse of the 
heart, to award the tribute of praise and admiration 
to those who have put everything to risk and sacri- 
ficed everything, in a great public cause, — who have 
submitted to the hist dread test of patriotism, and 
laid down their lives for their country. In the pre- 
sent case, it is doubly warranted by the best feelings 
of our nature. We do not come to v*'eave fresh lau- 
rels for the hero's wreath, to Hatter canonized 
pride, to extol the renowned, or to add new incense 
to the adulation, which is ever offered up at the 
shrine of the conqueror: — But to give the huml^ie 
man his due, — to rescue modest and untitled valor 
irom ol)livion; — to record the names of those, whom 



8 



iieithcr the ambition of power, the hope of promo- 
tion, nor the temptation of gain, — but a plain, in- 
stinctive sense of patriotic duty, — called to the field. 
Nor is it our purpose to rekindle the angry pas- 
isions, although we would fain revive the generous 
enthusiasm of the day we celebrate. The boiling 
veins — the burning nerves — the almost maddened 
brain which alone could have encountered the ter- 
rors of that day, have withered into dust, as still and 
cold, as that with which they have mingled. There 
is no hostile feeling in that sacred depository. No 
cry for revenge bursts from its peaceful enclos- 
ure. Sacred relics ! Ye have not come up, from 
your resting place in yonder grave-yard, on an 
errand of wrath or hatred. Ye have but come 
a little nearer to the field of your glory ; — to 
plead that your final resting place may be on the 
spot where you fell; — to claim the protection of the 
sods, which you once moistened with your blood. 
It is a reasonable request. There is not an Ameri- 
can who hears me, I am sure, that would profane 
the touching harmony of the scene, by an uniriendlj 
feeling; — and if there is an Englishman present, 
who carries an Anglo-Saxon heart in his bosom, he 
will be among the last to grudge to these poor re- 
mains of gallant foes, the honors we this day pay to 
their memory. Though they fell in this remote 
transatlantic village, they stood on the solid rock of 
the old liberties of Englishmen, and struck lor Free- 
dom in both hemispheres. 

Fellow Citizens ! The history of the Revolution 
is familiar to you. You are acquainted with it, in 
the general and in its details. You know it as a 
comprehensive whole, embracing, within its grand 
outline, the settlement and the colonization of the 



9 



coiinrry; — the developement, maturity, and rupture 
of the rehitions between Great Britain and America. 
You know it, in the controversy carried on for near- 
ly a hundred and fifty years, between the represen- 
tatives of the people and the oflficers of the crown. 
You know it in the characters of the great men, who 
signalized themselves, as the enlightened and fear- 
less leaders of the righteous and patriotic cause. 
You know it in the thrilling incidents of the crisis, 
when the appeal was made to arms. You know it, 
— you have studied it, — you revere it, as a mighty 
epoch in human atfairs; a great era in that order of 
Providence, which, from the strange conllict of hu- 
man passions and interests, and the various and 
wonderfully complicated agency of the institutions 
of men in society, — of individual character, — of ex- 
ploits, — discoveries, — commercial adventure, — the 
discourses and writings of wise and eloquent men, — 
educes the progressive civiliz9,tion of the race. 
Under these circumstances, it is scarcely possible to 
approach the subject, in any direction, Avith a well 
grounded hope of presenting it, in new lights, or 
saying any thing in wdiich this intelligent and patri- 
otic audience will not run before me, and anticipate 
the words before they drop from my lips. But it is 
a theme, that can never tire nor wear out. God 
grant that the time may never come, when those 
who, at periods however distant, shall address you 
on the 19th of April, shall have any thing wholly 
new, to impart. Let the tale be repeated, from 
father to son, till all its thrilling incidents are as 
familiar as household w^ords; and till the names of 
the brave men, who reaped the bloody honors of 
the 19th of April, 1775, are as well known to us, as 
the names of those, who foi'm the circle at our 
lire-sides. 



10 



The events of the clay we commemorate, of 
course, derive their interest from their connection 
with that struggle for constitutional liberty, which 
ilates from the settlement of the country; and which 
is beyond question the most important topic, in the 
history of free government. Jt presents to us a 
spectacle worthy of the deepest meditation, — full of 
solemn warning, and of instruction not yet exhaust- 
ed. We are, at times, almost perplexed, with the 
phenomena which pass before us. We see our an- 
cestors; — a people oi singular gravity of character, 
not turbulent nor impracticable, imbued with an 
hereditary love of order and law, and of a temper 
signally loyal; engaged in a course of almost uninter- 
rupted opposition to the authority of a government, 
which they professed themselves at all times bound 
to obey. On the other hand, Ave see the British 
government, under all administrations, — whether 
animated by liberal principles or the reverse, — 
adopting measures and pursuing a policy toward the 
North xlmerican colonies, which excited discontent 
and resistance. It is not till after careful scrutiny, 
that we find the solution of the problem, in a truth, 
which, though our fathers, — some of them, at least, — 
imquestionably felt its reality, — was never professed 
in any stage of the contest, till the Declaration of 
Independence, and then not as a general axiom, 
but as a proposition true in the then present case, 
yiz : the inherent incongruity of colonial govern- 
ment with the principles of constitutional liberty. 
>Such a government, — involving as it almost of ne- 
cessity does, the distance of the seat of power from 
the colony, — a vdo on the colonial legislation, — 
an appeal from the colonial justice, — a diversion 
of the colonial resources to objects not neces- 
saril}' connected with the welfare of the people, — 



n 



together with the irritation produced by the pre- 
sence of men in high office, not appointed by those 
who are obliged to submit to their authority, — 
seems, in its very nature, inconsistent with the re- 
quirements of constitutional liberty, either in the 
colony or the mother country. It is but half the 
mischief of the colonial system, that it obstructs the 
growth of freedom in the colony; it favours the 
growth of arbitrary power, in the mother country. 
It may be laid down as the moral of the long and 
varied struggle, w^hich was brought to a crisis on 
this spot on the 19th of April, 1775, that a colonial 
government can neither be exercised on principles 
of constitutional liberty, without gross inconsisten- 
cy, nor submitted to by a free people, possessing 
numbers and resources which authorize resistance. 
The truth of this doctrine shines brighter and 
brighter, from each successive page in our colonial 
history. The very genius of the British Constitu- 
tion, — the love of liberty, which was our fathers' 
inheritance, — the passionate aversion to arbitrary 
power, which drove them into banishment from the 
pleasant fields of England, — unfitted them for their 
colonial position and its duties. For this reason, the 
cares of the mother country were as wisely bestowed 
on the colonies, as those of the huntsman in the an- 
cient drama, who nursed the lion's whelp in his 
bosom, and brought him up as the playmate of his 
children. It was the nature, not the vice of the 
noble animal, that, tame and gentle as a lamb at 
the beginning, he grew up to the strength and bold- 
ness of a lion, impatient of restraint, indignant at 
injury, and ready, at the first opportunity, to bound 
off to his native woods.* 



From (liis condition of things it resulted, that the 
statesmen on botli sides the water, — as well in En- 
gland as in America, — who took a lead in public 
affairs, were, to use the languageof modern politics, 
in a false position, striving to do, what could not be 
done; — to tax constitutionally without a representa- 
tion, and to preserve allegiance in despite of ever- 
lasting opposition. It was one consequence of 
this unnatural state of things, that the real causes of 
the discontents Avere continually misapprehended, — 
ascribed to temporary, local, and personal grounds 
of dissatisfaction, — and not to the inherent nature of 
the process which was going on, and of the impossi- 
bility of a cordial union of elements so discordant. 
This is peculiarly visible in the writings of Gov. 
Hutchinson. This valuable historian was on the 
stage, for the entire generation preceding the revo- 
lution. For more than thirty years before it broke 
out, he w^as a political leader in Massachusetts. 
From the close of the French w^ar to the year 1775, 
he was probably the most confidential adviser of 
the Crown ; and for the chief part of the time the 
incumbent of the highest ofhces in its gift. He has 
brought the history of his native State down to the 
very moment, when, on the eve of the war, he 
left America, never to return. Learned, saga- 
cious, wary, conciliatory, and strongly disposed, as 
far as possible, to evade the difficulties of his posi- 
tion; no man had better opportunities of knowing 
the truth, and after making proper allowance for his 
prejudices, few are entitled to greater credit in their 
statem^ents. And yet, with all the sources of infor- 
mation in his reach, and all the opportunities enjoy- 
ed by him to arrive at an enlarged conception of the 
nature of the controversy. Gov. Hutchinson seriously 
traces the origin of the revolution to the fact, that 



13 



he himself was appointed chiet justice, instead of 
James Otis, who aspired to the place.* 

But a more signal instance of this delusion was of 
much older date, than the opposition to the stamp 
act. The government party never understood the 
character of the people nor the nature of the con- 
test; and a most memorable proof of this is found, in 
an act of provincial legislation, at the early period of 
1694. In that year a step was taken by the court 
party, which shewed, in a most extraordinary man- 
ner, the extent of their infatuation. Before this 
time, it had been the practice in many of the coun- 
try towns to elect, as their representatives to the 
General Court, citizens of Boston, w^ho, either from 
being natives of the towns or for any other cause, 
possessed the confidence of those, by whom they 
were thus chosen. A number of members of this 
class, having voted against an address to his Majes- 
ty, praying the continuance of Sir William Phips in 
office, the Court party immediately brought forward 
and carried a law, forbidding the election of any 
person as a representative, who did not reside in the 
town, by wiiich he was chosen. Provision was thus 
made by law to compel the towns, even if otherwise 
disinclined to do so, to take an interest in public 
affairs; and to secure from their own bosom a con- 
stant and faithful representation of the yeomanry. 
This was a court measure, designed to disqualify a 
few popular citizens of Boston, who had been elect- 
ed for the country; but it may be doubted whether 
any thing else contributed more, to carry the great 
constitutional controversy home to the doors of every 
citizen of the community, and to link together the 

* From an anecdote preserved by Dr. Eliot, (Biograpb. Diet. Art..nutcliin.«on,) 
it wonld appear, on the autiioritv of Jiidge Trowbridge, that Otis also viewed the 
question, in the same connection witli his own personal relations to ix. 



14 



town and country, by the strongest bonds of political 
sympathy. 

I need but allude to the measures, by which the 
revolution was at last brought on. The Boston Port 
Bill was a prool", that the British Ministry had de- 
termined to Ibrce matters to extremities ; and it 
awakened the liveliest sympathy, in the fate of Bos- 
ton, from one end of the continent to the other. — 
The acts of Parliament passed in 1774, for altering 
the mode of summoning juries and transporting ob- 
noxious persons to England for trial, were direct 
violations of the charter^ and indicated the danger- 
ous policy of striking at the lives of individuals, 
under color of legal procedure. Nothing produces 
so great an exasperation, as this policy, and no pol- 
icy is so weak; for the most insignificant individual 
is made important by proscription; while few^ are so 
gifted, but their blood will prove more eloquent than 
their pens or their tongues. These threatening 
steps, on the part of the ministry, did but hasten 
the preparations for resistance, on the part of the 
people of America. A continental Congress was 
organized in 1774, and a provincial Congress met, 
about the same time, in Massachusetts. Before the 
close of that year, the latter body had made ar- 
rangements for a levy of twelve thousand men in 
Massachusetts, as her share of twenty thousand to 
be raised by the New England colonies, and one 
fourth of the number to act as minute men. By the 
same authority, magazines were established, — arms 
and munitions of war procured, and supplies of all 
kinds provided for a state of actual service. The 
greatest attention was paid to drilling and exercising 
the troops, particularly in the portions of the pro- 
vince, immediately contiguous to Concord and Wor- 
cester, where the military depots were established^ 



15 



A committee of safety, and a committee o? suppiics^- 
were clothed with the chief executive power. Gen- 
eral officers, — principally the veterans of the French 
war, — were appointed to command the troops; and 
as the royal forces in Boston, were in the habit of 
making excursions into the neighbouring country, 
for parade and exercise, it became necessary to de- 
cide the question, when they should be met with 
forcible resistance. It was resolved by the provin- 
cial Congress, that this should be done, whenever 
the troops came out with baggage, ammunition, and 
artillery, and other preparations for hostile action. 
Having thus made provision for the worst, the pro- 
vincial Congress of Massachusetts adjourned early 
in December, 1774, to give the members an oppor- 
tunity to keep the stated Thanksgiving with their 
families; — and among the causes of gratitude to Al- 
mighty God, even at this dark and anxious period, 
which are set forth in the proclamation of the Pro- 
vincial Congress, they call upon the people to be 
devoutly thankful for the union of sentiment, which 
prevailed so remarkably in the colonies. 

The situation of Massachusetts, at that time, pre- 
sents a most striking and instructive spectacle. It 
contained a population, not far from three hundred 
thousand; arrested in the full career of industrious 
occupation in all the branches of civilized pursuit. 
Their charter was substantially abrogated by the new 
laws. Obedience was every where withheld from 
the arbitrary powers assumed by the government. 
The proclamations of the governor were treated 
with silent disregard. The port of Boston is 
shut, and with it much of the commerce of the 
province is annihilated; for the neighboring sea- 
port towns vie with each other, in a generous 
refusal to take advantage of the distresses of 
Boston. The courts are closed, and the innumer- 



16 



able concerns, wliich, in an ordinary state of things, 
require the daily and hourly interposition of the 
law, are placed under the safe guardianship of the 
public sentiment of a patriotic community. The 
powers, assumed by the committees of safety and 
supplies and by the provincial congress, are obeyed, 
with a ready deference, never yielded, in the most 
loyal times, to the legal commands of the king's 
governors. The community, in a word, is reduced, 
— no, is elevated, — to a state of nature: — to a state 
of nature, in a high and solemn sense, in which the 
feeling of a great impending common danger and 
the consciousness of an exalted and resolute com- 
mon purpose, take the place, at once and with full 
efficacy, ofall the machinery of constitutional govern- 
ment. It is thus that a people, fit for freedom, may 
get the substance before the ibrms of liberty. Lux- 
ury disappears, a patriotic frugality accumulates the 
scattered elements of the public wealth; — feuds are 
reconciled; — differences compromised; — the creditor 
spares his debtor ; — the debtor voluntarily acquits 
his obligations; — an unseen spirit of order, resource, 
and power walks, like an invisible angel, through 
(he land; — and the people thoughtful, calm, and col- 
lected, await the coming storm. 

The minds of the people, throughout the country, 
had become thoroughly imbued with the great prin- 
ciples of the contest. These principles had for 
years been discussed at the primary meetings in Mas- 
sachusetts; and the municipal records of many of 
(he towns, at that period, are filled with the most 
honorable proois of the intelligence and patriotism 
of their citizens. The town of Lexington stands 
second to none, in an early, strenuous, and able vin- 
dication of the rights of the colonies. In the year 
}7G5, a very conclusive exposition of the question 



17 

on the .stamp act was adopted by the town, in the 
form of mstructions to their representative in the 
general court. It is a paper not inferior to the best 
of the day. In 1767, the town expressed its unani- 
mous concurrence, in the measures adopted by Bos- 
ton, to prevent the consumption of foreign commodi- 
ties. In 1768, a preamble and resolutions were 
adopted by the town, in which the right of Great 
Britain to tax America is argued with extraordinary 
skill and power. In 1772, their representative was 
furnished with instructions, expressed in the most 
forcible terms, to seek a redress of the daily increa- 
sing wrongs of the people. The object of these in- 
structions is declared to be, that " thus, whether 
successful or not, succeeding generations may know, 
that we understood our rights and liberties, and 
were neither afraid nor ashamed to assert or main- 
tain them ; and that we ourselves may have at least 
this consolation, in our chains, that it was not 
through our neglect, that this people were ensla- 
ved."* In 1773, resolutions of the most decided 
and animated character were unanimously passed, 
relative to the duty on tea. At numerous town 
meetings toward the close of 1774, measures were 
taken for a supply of ammunition, the purchase and 
distribution of arms, and other measures of military 
defence. A representative was chosen to the pro- 
vincial congress, and the town's tax directed to be 
paid, not to the royal receiver general, but to the 
treasurer appointed by the provincial congress. 

Although the part thus taken by Lexington was in 
full accordance with the course pursued by many 
other towns in the Province, there is nothing invid- 
ious in the remark, that the documents to which I 
have referred, and in which the principles and opin- 

* Lcxiiigtgii Town Records. Fol, 209, 



18 



ions of the town are embodied, have few equals and 
no superiors, among the productions of that class. — 
They are well known to have proceeded from the 
pen of the former venerable pastor of the church, in 
this place, the Reverend Jonas Clark, who for many 
years previous to the revolution and to the close of 
his life, exercised a well deserved ascendancy in the 
public concerns of the town. To the older part of 
the citizens of Lexington it w'ere needless to de- 
scribe him : — they remember too well the voice, to 
which within these w^alls, they listened so long with 
reverence and delight. Even to those who are too 
young to have known him, the tradition of his influ- 
ence is familiar. Mr. Clark was of a class of citi- 
zens, who rendered services second to no other, in 
enlightening and animating the popular mind, on the 
great questions at issue, — I mean the patriotic cler- 
gy of New-England. The circumstances, under 
which this portion of the country w^as settled, gave 
a religious complexion to the whole political system. 
The vigorous growth of transatlantic liberty was 
owing in no small degree to the fact that its seed 
was planted at the beginning by men, who deemed 
Freedom of Conscience a cheap purchase at any cost ; 
and that its roots struck deep into the soil of Puri- 
tanism. Mr. Clark was a man of high rank in his 
profession, — a man of practical piety, — a learned 
theologian, — a person of wide general reading, — a 
writer perspicuous, correct, and pointed beyond the 
standard of the day, — and a most intelligent, reso- 
lute, and ardent champion of the popular cause. He 
w^as connected, by marriage, with the family of John 
Hancock. To this circumstance, no doubt, may 
properly be ascribed some portion of his interest in 
the political movements of the day ; — while on the 
mind of Hancock, an intimacy with Mr. Clark was 



19 

calculated to have a strong and salutary influence.— 
Their connection led to a portion of the interesting 
occurrences of the 19th of April 1775. The soul- 
stirring scenes of the great tragedy, which was act- 
ed out on this spot, were witnessed by Mr. Clark, 
from the door of his dwelling, hard by. To perpet- 
uate their recollection he instituted, the following 
year, a service of commemoration. He delivered 
himself an historical discourse of great merit, which 
was followed on the returns of the anniversary, till 
the end of the revolutionary war, in a series of ad- 
dresses in the same strain, by the clergy of the neigh- 
boring towns. Mr. Clark's instructive and eloquent 
narrative, in the appendix to the discourse, remains 
to this day one of the most important authorities, for 
this chapter in the history of the Revolution. 

It may excite some surprise, that so great alacri- 
ty was evinced in the work of military preparation, 
by the town of Lexington, and other towns similarly 
situated, in the colonies. How are we to account 
for the extraordinarji fact, that a village not of the 
first class in size, and not in any respect so circum- 
stanced as to require its citizens to stand forth, in 
the position of military resistance, should have taken 
such prompt and vigorous measures of a warlike 
character? This is a fact to be explained by a re- 
currence to the earlier history of the colonies. It is 
a truth to which sufficient attention has not, perhaps, 
been given, in connection with the history of the 
revolution, that in the two preceding wars between 
Great Britain and France, the colonies had taken a 
very active and important part.* The military re- 
cords of those wars, as far as the province of Massa- 
chusetts Bay are concerned, are still in existence. 

* Some remarks were made on tliia subject, in an oration delivered at Worces 
tc! cii the 4th of July, 1833, by tlie author of this address. 



20 



The original muster rolls arc preserved in the State 
House at Boston. I have examined a great many 
of them. They prove that the people of Massachu- 
setts, between the years 1755 and 1763, performed 
an amount of military service, probably never exact- 
ed of any other people, living under a government 
professing to be free. Nat a village in Massachu- 
setts, but sent its sons to lay their bones in the 
West Indies, in Nova Scotia, and the Canadian 
wilderness. Judge Minot states, that in the year 
1757, one third part of the eftective men of Massa- 
chusetts were, in some way or other, in the field, 
and that the taxes imposed on real property in Bos- 
ton, amounted to two thirds of the income. In 1759, 
the General Court, by way of excusing themselves to 
Governor Pownall for falling short of the military re- 
quisitions of that year, informed him, that the military 
service of the preceding year had amounted to one 
million of dollars. They nevertheless raised that 
year six thousand eight hundred men ; a force which 
contributed most essentially to the achievement of 
the great object of the campaign, the reduction of 
Quebec. The population of Massachusetts and 
Maine, at that time, might have been half the pres- 
ent population of Massachusetts ; the amount of tax- 
able property beyond all proportion less. Besides 
the hardships of voluntary service, the most distres- 
sing levies were made on the towns by impressment, 
enforced by all the rigors of martial law. 

These are not the most affecting documents in our 
archives, to shew the nature of that school of prepara- 
tion, in which the men of 1775 were reared. Those 
archives are fdled with the tears of desolate wi- 
dows and bereaved parents. After the disastrous cap- 
itulation of Fort William Henry in 1757, the Gover- 
nor of Massachusetts invited those, who had relative 



21 



carried into captivity among the Canadian Indians^ 
to give information to the Colonial Secretary, that 
order might be taken for their redemption. Many 
of the original returns to this invitation are on file. 
Touching memorials ! Here an aged parent in An- 
dover, transmits the name of his " dear son," that 
he may have the benefit of " the gracious design" of 
the government. A poor widow at Newbury, states 
that her child, who was made captive at what she 
calls " Rogers' great fight," was but seventeen years 
old, when he left her. And old Jonathan Preble of 
Maine, whose son and daughter-in-law were killed 
by the Indians at Arrowsick Island and six of their 
children, from the age of twelve years down to three 
months, carried into captivity, the same day, " makes 
bold," as he says, to send up the sad catalogue of 
their names. He apologizes for this freedom, on 
the ground of " having drank so deep" of this mis- 
ery ; and then apparently reflecting, that this was^ 
too tender an expression for an ofl^cial paper, he 
strikes out the words, and simply adds " having been 
deprived of so many of my family." The original 
paper, with the erasure and the correction, is pre- 
served. 

In fact the land was filled, town and country, — 
and in proportion to its population, no town more 
than Lexington, — with men who had seen service, — 
and such service too ! There were few villages in 
this part of the Province, which had not furnished 
recruits for that famous corps of Rangers, which was 
commanded by Rogers and in which Stark served 
his military apprenticeship ; — a corps whose duties 
went as far beyond the rigors of ordinary warfare, as 
that is more severe than a holiday parade. Their 
march was through the untrodden by-paths of the 
Canadian frontier ; — the half-tamed savage, bor- 

3 



22 



rowing from civilization nothing but its maddening 
vices and destructive weapons, was the Ranger's 
sworn enemy. Huntsman at once and soldier, his 
supply of provisions, on many of his excursions, was 
the fortune of the chase and a draught Irom the 
mountain stream, that froze as it trickled from the 
rocks. Instead of going into quarters when the for- 
est put on its sere autumnal uniform of scarlet and 
gold, — winter — Canadian winter — dreary mid-win- 
ter, — on irozen lakes, through ice-bound forests, 
from which the famished deer chased by the gaunt 
wolf, was fain to fly to the settlements, called the 
poor Ranger to the field of his duties. Sometimes 
he descended the lake on skates ; sometimes he 
marched on snow shoes, where neither baggage- 
wagon nor beast of burden could follow him, and 
with all his frugal store laden on his back. Not on- 
ly was the foe he sought armed with the tomahawk 
and scalping knife, but the tortures of the faggot and 
the stake w^ere in reserve for the prisoner, who, for 
wounds or distance or any other cause, could not 
readily be sold into an ignominious slavery among 
the Canadian French. Should I relate all the hard- 
ships of this service, I should expect almost to start 
the lid of that coffin ; — lor it covers the remains of at 
least one brave heart, who could bear witness to 
their truth. Captain Spikeman, who fell on the 21st 
of January 1757, raised his company, in which Stark, 
I believe, was a lieutenant, principally in this neigh- 
borhood. The journal of General Winslow contains 
the muster roll, and I find there the names of seve- 
ral inhabitants of Lexington. Edmund Munroe, (af- 
terwards, with another of the same name, killed by 
one cannon ball at the battle of Monmouth,) was of 
the staff in Rogers' regiment ; and Robert Munroe, 
whose remains are gathered in that receptacle, was 



23 

an ensign at the capture of Louisbourgli in 1758, — 
There could not have been less than twenty or thir- 
ty of the citizens of Lexington, who had learned the 
art of war, in some department or other of the mili- 
tary colonial service. They had tasted its horrors 
in the midnight surprise of the savage foe, and they 
had followed the banners of victory under the old 
provincial leaders, Gridley and Thomas, and Ruggles 
and Frye, up to the ramparts of Quebec. No won- 
der that they started again at the sound of the trum- 
pet ; no wonder that men, who had followed the 
mere summons of allegiance and loyalty to the shores 
of lake Champlain and the banks of the St. Law- 
rence, should obey the cry of instinct, which called 
them to defend their homes. The blood which was 
not too precious to be shed upon the plains of Abra- 
ham, in order to wrest a distant colony from the do- 
minion of France, might well be expected to flow 
like water, in defence of all that is dear to man. 

From the commencement of 1775, a resort to ex- 
tremities was manifestly inevitable ; — but the time 
and mode, in which it should take place, were wrap- 
ped in solemn uncertainty. The patriots of the 
highest tone, well knowing that it could not be a- 
voided, did not wish it postponed. Warren burn- 
ed for the decisive moment ; — young, beloved, gift- 
ed for a splendid career, — he was ready, — impatient 
for the conflict. The two Adamses and Hancock, 
bore, with scarcely suppressed discontent, the less 
resolute advances of some of their associates ; — and 
Quincy wrote from London in December 1774, in 
the following strain of devoted patriotism : " Let me 
tell you one very serious truth, in which we are all 
agreed, your countrymen must seal their cause with 
their blood. They must now stand the issue ; — 
they must preserve a consistency of character, they 



24 



MUST NOT DELAY, they Hiust [rcsist to the death,] 
or be trodden into the vilest vassalage, — the scorn, 
the spurn of their enemies, a by-word of infamy a- 
mong all men !" 

In anticipation of this impending crisis, the mea- 
sures of military preparation, to which I have alluded, 
were taken. The royal Governor of Massachu- 
setts had served in the old French war and did not 
undervalue his adversary, but adopted his measures 
of preparation as against a resolute foe. Officers in 
disguise were sent to Concord and Worcester, to ex- 
plore the roads and passes, and gain information rel- 
ative to the provincial stores. At Medford the mag- 
azine was plundered. An unsuccessful attempt was 
made to seize the artillery at Salem. On the 30th 
of March, General Gage sent eleven hundred men 
out of Boston and threw down the stone walls, which 
covered some of the passes in the neighborhood. — 
These indications sufficiently shewed, that an at- 
tempt to destroy the provincial stores at Concord 
and Worcester, might be expected ; a hostile ex- 
cursion from Boston, on that errand, was daily an- 
ticipated, for some time before it took place ; — and 
proper measures were taken, by stationing two per- 
sons on the look out, in all the neighboring towns, 
to obtain and propagate the earliest intelligence of 
the movement. 

In anxious expectation of the crisis, a considerable 
part of the people of Boston sought refuge in the 
country. Inclination prompted them to withdraw 
themselves from beneath the domination of what was 
now regarded as a hostile military power ; and pat- 
riotism suggested the expediency of diminishing, as 
far as possible, the number of those, who, while they 
remained in Boston, were at the mercy of the royal 
Governor ; and held as hostages for the submission 
oi' their countrymen. 



25 



In conjunction with the seizure of the Province 
stores, the arrest of some of the most prominent of 
the patriotic leaders was threatened. Hancock and 
Adams had been often designated by name as pecu- 
liarly obnoxious, and on the adjournment of the Pro- 
vincial Congress, a strong opinion had been express- 
ed by their friends, that they ought not to return to 
the city. Hancock yielded to the advice and took 
up his abode in this place, — the spot where his fath- 
er was born, — where he had himself passed a por- 
tion of his childhood, and where he found in his ven- 
erable connection, Mr. Clark, an associate of con- 
genial temper. Beneath the same hospitable roof, 
Samuel Adams also found a cordial welcome. Thus, 
my friends, your village became the place of refuge 
and your fathers were constituted the guardians of 
these distinguished patriots, at a moment, when a 
price was believed to be set on their heads. 

Samuel Adams and John Hancock ! — Do you ask 
why we should pause at their names ? Let the 
proclamation of General Gage furnish the answer : 
" I do hereby, in his Majesty's name, promise his 
most gracious pardon to all persons, who shall forth- 
with lay down their arms, and return to the duties 
of peaceable subjects, excepting only from the ben- 
efit of such pardon, Samuel Adams and John Han- 
cock, whose offences are of too flagitious a nature, 
to admit of any other consideration than that of con- 
dign punishment." 

The flagitious offences of Hancock and Adams 
were their early, unrelaxing, and fearless efforts, in 
defence of the rights of American freemen; and the 
cordial co-operation of these men, in that great 
cause, unlike as they were in every thing else, is 
one of the most pleasing incidents of the history of 
the revolution. John Hancock would have been the 



26 



spoiled child of fortune; if he had not been the cho- 
sen instrument of Providence. His grandfather was 
for fifty-four years the pastor, with great authority, 
of this church, and his father, afterwards minister 
of Braintree, was born in Lexington. John Han- 
cock was left an orphan at the age of seven years, 
and from that period, passed much of his time, in 
this village, and received a part of his education, at 
the town school. After leaving college, he entered 
the family and became associated in the business of 
his uncle, a distinguished citizen and a wealthy mer- 
chant in Boston, who shortly afterwards died, be- 
queathing to John Hancock a fortune of seventy 
thousand pounds sterling; — the largest estate proba- 
bly, which had ever been amassed in the colonies. 
He was thus left at twenty-seven years of age, with- 
out parents, brought up in luxury, distinguished for 
personal appearance, voice, manners, and address, 
the master of' a princely estate. He seemed, as it 
were, marked out by clestiny, to pursue the tempt- 
ing path of royal favor. He was accused of ambi- 
tion. But what had he to gain by joining the aus- 
tere ranks of those, who were just commencing the 
great battle of liberty? He was charged with a 
love of display. But no change of public affairs 
could improve his private fortunes; and he had but 
to seek them through the paths of loyalty, and all 
the honors of the empire, pertaining in any measure 
to his position, are at his command, on either side 
of the Atlantic. The tempter did whisper to him, 
that he might lead a gay and luxurious existence, 
within the precincts of the court. But his heart was 
beneath yonder roof, where his father was born. 
In the midst of all the enjoyments and temptations 
of London, he remembered the school, where he had 
first learned to read his bible; and exclaimed, amidst 



27 



the seductions of the British metropolis, " If I forget 
thee, Oh! New England, may my right hand forget 
her cmming." 

He witnessed the coronation of George III, and it 
was the immediate spectacle of a life of court atten- 
dance, that taught John Hancock to prize the inde- 
pendence of a Boston merchant ; — of an American 
citizen. He returned from England, to plunge, heart 
and soul, into the contest for principle and for lib- 
erty. He scattered his princely wealth like ashes. 
He threw his property into the form, in which it 
would be least productive to himself, and most ben- 
eficial to the industrious and suffering portion of the 
community. He built ships at a time, not when for- 
eign trade was extending itself, but when new 
restrictions were daily laid upon the commerce of 
America, and the shipwrights were starving ; and he 
built houses, when real estate was rapidly sinking in 
value. He shunned personal danger as little as he 
spared his purse. On the retirement of Peyton 
Randolph from the chair of Congress in May 1775, 
he was called by the members of that venerable 
body to preside in their councils, and in that capa- 
city, he had the singular good fortune to sign the 
commission of George Washington, and the immortal 
honor to affix his name first to the Declaration of In- 
dependence. To the solid qualities of character he 
added all the graces of the old school ; and as if to meet 
the taunts, which were daily pointed at the rustic 
simplicity of the American cause, the enemies of the 
country beheld in its patriotic President, an ele- 
gance of appearance and manners unsurpassed at 
their own Court. When the rapid depreciation of 
Continental paper had greatly increased the distres- 
ses of the people, Hancock instructed his agents at 
home, to receive that poor discredited currency, 



28 



with which his country was laboring to carry on the 
war, in payment of every thing due to him ; and 
w^hen asked his opinion in Congress of the policy of 
an assault upon Boston, he recommended the mea- 
sure, although it would lay half his property in ashes. 
During all the distresses, which preceded the com- 
mencement of hostilities, while Boston was sinking 
under the privations of the Port Bill, Hancock not 
only forbore the enforcement of his debts, but liter- 
ally shared his diminished income with his suffering 
townsmen. Providence rewarded his warm-hearted 
and uncalculating patriotism, with the highest honors 
of the country ; — enabled him to build up his impair- 
ed estate out of the ashes of the Revolution ; and 
gave him a place as bright and glorious, in the ad- 
miration of mankind, " as if," — to use the words of 
Daniel Webster, " his name had been written in let- 
ters of light, on the blue arch of heaven, between 
Orion and the Pleiades." 

Samuel Adams w^as the counterpart of his distin- 
guished associate in proscription. Hancock served 
the cause with his liberal opulence, Adams with his 
incorruptible poverty. His family at times suffered 
almost for the comforts of life, when he might 
have sold his influence over the councils of Ameri- 
ca for uncounted gold, — when he might have emp- 
tied the British treasury, if he would have betray- 
ed his country. Samuel Adams was the last 
of the Puritans; — a class of men to whom the cause 
of civil and religious liberty, on both sides of the 
Atlantic, is mainly indebted, for the great progress 
which it has made for the last two hundred years; 
and when the Declaration of Independence was 
signed, that dispensation might be considered as 
brought to a close. At a time when the new order 
of things was inducing laxity of manners and a de- 



29 



part lire from ihe ancient strictness, Samuel AJaniM 
clung, with greater tenacity, to the wholesome dis- 
cipline of the fathers. His only relaxation from the 
business and cares of life was in the indulgence of a 
taste for sacred music, for which he was qualified by 
the possession of a most angelic voice, and of a 
soul solemnly impressed with religious sentiment. — 
Resistance of oppression w^as his vocation. On tak- 
ing his second degree, he maintained the noble the- 
sis, that it is " lawful to resist the supreme magis- 
trate, if the Commonwealth cannot otherwise be pre- 
served." Thus at the age of tw^enty-one, twenty 
years, before the stamp act was thought of, Samuel 
Adams, from the cloisters of Harvard College, an- 
nounced in two lines, the philosophy of the Ameri- 
can Revolution. His after-life shewed that his prac- 
tice was not below his theory. On leaving college, 
he devoted himself for some years to the profession 
of divinity ; but he gave himself afterwards wholly to 
the political service of the country. He w^as among 
the earliest and ablest writers on the patriotic side. 
He caught the plain, downright, style of the Com- 
monwealth in Great Britain. More than most of his 
associates, he understood the etHcacy of personal in- 
tercourse with the people. It was Samuel Adams, 
more than any other individual, who brought the 
question home to their bosoms and firesides, — not 
by proibund disquisitions and elaborate reports, — 
though these in their place were not spared, — but 
in the caucus, the club-room, at the green-dragon, 
in the ship-yards, in actual conference, man to man 
and heart to heart. He was forty-six years of age, 
when he first came to the House of Representatives. 
There he was, of course, a leader ; a member of ev- 
ery important committee ; — the author of many of 
the ablest and boldest state papers of the time. — 

■1 



30 



"But the throne of his ascendancy was in Fanueil 
Hall. As each new measure of arbitrary power was 
announced, from across the Atlantic, or each new 
act of menace and violence, on the part of the offi- 
cers of the government or of the army, occurred in 
Boston, — its citizens, oftentimes in astonishment and 
perplexity, rallied to the sound of his voice, in Fan- 
ueil Hall ; and there, as from the crowded gallery 
or the moderator's chair, he animated, enlightened, 
fortified, and roused the admiring throng, he seem- 
ed to gather them together beneath the aegis of 
his indomitable spirit, as a hen gathereth her chick- 
ens under her wings. With his namesake John 
Adams, Warren, and Hancock, he perceived the in- 
evitable necessity of striking for Independence, a 
considerable time, before it was generally admitted. 
In some branches of knowledge he was excelled by 
other men ; but one thing he knew thoroughly, and 
that was Liberty. He began with it early, studied 
it long, and possessed the whole science of it. He 
knew it, class and order, — genus and species, — root 
and branch. With him it was no matter of frothy 
sentiment. He knew^ it was no gaudy May-day 
flower, peeping through the soft verdant sods of 
Spring, and opening its painted petals as a dew cup 
for midnight fairies to sip at. He knew it was an 
austere and tardy growth, — the food of men, long 
hungering for their inalienable rights, — a seed scat- 
tered broad cast on a rough though genial soil, — 
ripening beneath lowering skies and autumnal fi'osts, 
— to be reaped with a bloody sickle. Instead of 
quailing, his spirit mounted and mantled with the ap- 
proach of the crisis. Chafed and fretted with the 
minor irritations of the early stages of the contest, 
he rose to a religious tranquillity, as the decisive 
hour drew nigh, in all the excitement and turmoil 



31 



of the anxious days that preceded the explosion, he 
was of the few, who never lost their balance. He 
was thoughtful, — serious almost to the point of stern- 
ness, — resolute as fate ; but cheerful himself, and 
a living spring of animation to others. He stood 
among the people a pillar of safety and strength : — 

As some tull cliff, that lifts its awful form, 
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm ; 
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head. 

And so he looked forAvard to the impending strug- 
gle, as the consummation of a great design, of which 
not man but God had laid the foundation stone, on 
the rock of Plymouth ; and when on the morning of 
the day you now commemorate, the vollies of fire- 
arms from this spot announced to him and his com- 
panion, in the neighboring field, that the great bat- 
tle of liberty had begun, he threw up his arms and 
exclaimed, in a burst of patriotic rapture, "Oh, 
what a glorious morning is this!" 

Yes ! fellow citizens, such was the exclamation 
of Samuel Adams, w^hen a thousand British troops 
were in possession of your village, and seven of your 
citizens were struggling in the agonies of death. — 
His prophetic soul told him, that the divine form of 
his country's liberty would follow on, the next per- 
sonage in that fearful but all-glorious pageant. He 
saw that the morning sun, whose first slanting beams 
were dancing on the tops of the hostile bayonets, 
would not more surely ascend the heavens, than the 
sun of independence would arise on the clouded for- 
tunes of his country. The glory he foresaw has come 
to pass. Two generations attest the truth of his 
high-souled prophecy. And you, " village Hamp- 
dens, who, with dauntless breast" withstood, not 
" the petty tyrant of your fields," but the dread and 



32 



Kicensed .sovereign ol ii mighly empire, wlien he 
came in his embattled hosts to subdue you; you, 
who sealed your devotion to the cause by the last 
£i;reat attestation of sincerity, your blood has not 
sunk unprohlably into the ground. If your spirits 
are conscious of the honors we now pay your relics, 
you behold in the wide spread prosperity of the 
i^rowing millions of America, the high justification 
of that generous impulse, which led you, on that 
glorious morning, to the field of death ! 

On Saturday the 15tli of April, the provincial con- 
gress, then in session at Concord, adjourned to meet 
again, on the 10th of May. It is ]:)robable that the 
intelligence of this event had not reached General 
Gage in Boston, when, on the same day, he com- 
menced his arrangements for the projected expedi- 
tion. The grenadiers and light infantry were re- 
lieved from their several stations in Boston, and con- 
centrated on the common, under pretence of learn- 
ing a new military exercise. At midnight following, 
the boats of the transport ships, wliich had been pre- 
viously repaired, were launched and moored under 
the sterns of the men of war in the harbor. Dr. 
Warren, on his v/ay home from the Congress on Sat- 
urday, had expressed to the family of Mr. Clark, his 
firm persuasion, that the moment was at hand when 
blood would How. lie justly regarded the military 
movements of the following night, as a confirmation 
of this opinion, and despatched Colonel Paul Revere 
the next day, to this place, to bring the intelligence 
to Messrs. Hancock and Adams. They naturally 
inferred from the magnitude of the ]:>reparations, that 
their own seizure could not be the sole object, and 
advised the committee of safety, then sitting at West 
Cambridge, to order the distribution into the neigh- 
boring: towns oi the stores collected at Concord. — 



Colonel Paul Revere, on his return to lovvn, on Sun- 
clay, concerted with his friends in Charlestown, that 
two lights should be shown from the steeple of the 
North Church, if the British troops should cross in 
boats to Cambridge, and one, if they should march 
out, over Boston neck. 

Wednesday the 19th was fixed upon, as the event- 
ful day. Ten or twelve British officers were sent 
out the day before on horseback, wdio dined at Cam- 
bridge ; and at nightfall scattered themselves on 
the roads to Concord, to prevent the communication 
of intelligence from the town. Early information of 
this tact was brought to this place, by Solomon 
Brown* of Lexington, who returned late from Bos- 
ton market, on the afternoon of the 18th, and passed 
them and w^as passed by them, several times, as they 
sometimes rode forward or fell back on the road. — 
A despatch to the same effect was also sent by Mr. 
Gerry, of the committee of safety, at West Cam- 
bridge, to Mr. Hancock, whose answer, still pre- 
served, evinces the calmness and self-possession, 
which he maintained at the approaching crisis. In 
consequence of this information, a guard of eight 
men, under the late Col. William Munroe, then a 
sergeant in the Lexington company, was marched, 
in the course of the evening, to Mr. Clark's house, 
for the protection of Messrs. xidams and Hancock. 
At the same time, Messrs. Sanderson, Loring,f and 
Brown, were sent up towards Concord, to watch the 
movement of the officers. They came upon them 
unawares in Lincoln and lell into their hands. A- 
bout midnight Colonel Paul Revere, who had left 

* Mr. Brown is still Tiving, but from tlie distance of liis place of residence, wns 
not ;ihle to attend, wiili the other survivors of Captain I'arkei's coinpanv, (ten in 
;r.inil)ei-,) the celebration of the anniversary. 

i .Mr. Luring was present on tiie Stajjc, at the dcliveiy of tlii.-; atldresb. 



34 



Boston, by direction of Dr. Warren, as soon as 
the movement of the troops was discovered, and had 
passed by the way of Charlestown, (where he nar- 
rowly escaped two British officers,) through Medford, 
and West Cambridge, giving the alarm at every house 
on the way, — arrived at Mr. Clark's with despatches 
from Dr. Warren, for Hancock and Adams. Passing 
on towards Concord, Revere also fell into the hands 
of the British officers in Lincoln, but not till he had 
had an opportunity of communicating his errand to 
young Dr. Prescott of Concord, whom he overtook 
on the road. At the moment Revere was arrested 
by the officers, Prescott succeeded in forcing his 
way through them, and thus carried the alarm to 
Concord. The intelligence sent by Dr. Warren to 
Messrs. Hancock and Adams, purported that " a 
large body of the King's troops, (supposed to be a 
brigade of 1200 or 1500 men,) had embarked in boats 
from Boston." 

After the detention of an hour or two in Lincoln, 
the British officers were informed by Colonel Revere, 
of all the measures he had taken to alarm the coun- 
try ; and deemed it expedient lor their own safety 
to hasten back toward Boston. On their way toward 
Lexington, they put many questions to their prison- 
ers, as to the place where Messrs. Adams and Han- 
cock were residing. As they approached Lexing- 
ton, the alarm bell was ringing and a volley was fir- 
ed by some of the militia, then assembling on the 
green. Upon this they hastened their flight, and 
just as they entered the village their prisoners es- 
caped from them. Colonel Revere repaired to the 
house of Mr. Clark, and the general apprehensions 
relative to his distinguished guests, having been con- 
hrmed by the interrogatories of the British officers, 
Messrs. Hancock and Adams were persuaded with 



35 



great difficulty to witlidraw from the immediate vi- 
cinity of the road. On the retm-n of Colonel Revere 
to the centre of the village, he met Captain Thad- 
deus Bowman coming up the road, in full gallop, 
with the news that the British troops were at hand. 

It was at this time, between four and five o'clock 
in the morning. Three messengers had been sent 
down the road, to ascertain the approach of the 
British army. The two first brought no tidings, and 
the troops were not discovered by the third. Captain 
Bowman, till they were far advanced into the town. 
They had been put in motion about seven hours be- 
fore, on Boston common. They crossed in boats, 
near the spot where the Court House now stands in 
East Cambridge ; and there took up their march, 
from eight hundred to one thousand strong, grena- 
diers, light infantry, and marines. They crossed 
the marshes, inclining to their right, and came into 
the Charlestown and West Cambridge road, near 
the foot of Prospect hill. It was a fine moonlight, 
chilly night. No hostile movement was made by 
them, till they reached West Cambridge. The 
committee of safety had been in session in that place, 
at Wetherbee's tavern ; and three of its distinguish- 
ed members, Vice-President Gerry, Colonel Lee, 
and Colonel Orne, had taken up their lodging for the 
night, at the same house. The village, having been 
alarmed by Colonel Revere, was on the alert at the 
approach of the army ; and Messrs. Gerry, Lee, and 
Orne, had risen from their beds and gone to their 
windows, to contemplate the strange spectacle. As 
the troops came up, on a line with the house, a ser- 
geant's guard was detached to search it ; and the 
members of the committee had but a moment to es- 
cape by flight into the adjacent fields. 

It was now perceived by Colonel v^mith, who 



36 



commanded ihe British delacbment, thai the coun- 
try, on all sides, was in a state of" alarm. The news 
had spread, in every direction, both by the way of 
Charlestown and Roxbmy. The lights in the North 
Church steeple had given the signal, before the 
troops had fairly embarked. It was propagated by 
the alarm-bell, from village to village ; vollies from 
the minute-men were heard in every direction ; — 
and as fast as light and sound could travel, the news 
ran through Massachusetts, I might say through 
New-England ; and every man as he heard it sprang 
to his arms. As a measure of precaution, under 
these circumstances, Colonel Smith detached six 
companies of light infantry and marines, to move 
forward under Major Pitcairne and take possession 
of the bridges at Concord, in order to cut oft' the 
communication with the interior of the country. — 
At the same time also, he sent back to General Gage 
and asked a reinforcement, a piece of forethought 
which saved all that was saved of the fortunes of 
that day. Before these detached companies could 
reach Lexington, the officers already mentioned 
were hastening down the road ; and falling in with 
Major Pitcairne, informed him, that five hundred 
men were assembling on Lexington green to resist 
the troops. In consequence of this exaggerated ac- 
count, the advance party was halted, to give time lor 
the grenadiers to come up. 

And thus, fellow citizens, having glanced at all 
the other movements of this memorable night, we 
are prepared to contemplate that, which gives inter- 
est to them all. The company assembled on this 
spot, and which had been swelled by the British of- 
ficers to five hundred, consisted in reality of sixty or 
seventy of the militia of Lexington. On the receipt 
of the information of the excursion of the officers and 



the movement ol' the troops, a guard had been set^ 
as we have seen, at the house of Mr. Clark, the ev- 
ening before. After the receipt of the intelligence 
brought by Revere, the alarm bell was rung ; and 
a summons sent round to the militia of the place, to 
assemble on the green. This was done by direction 
of the commander of the company, Captain John 
Parker, — an officer of approved firmness and cour- 
age. He had probably served in the French war, 
and gave many proofs, on this trying occasion, of a 
most intrepid spirit. About two o'clock in the 
morning, the drum beat to arms, the roll was called, 
and about one hundred and thirty answered to their 
names ; — some of them alas, — whose ashes, now 
gathered in that depository, invoke the mournful 
honors of this day, — for the last time on earth. — 
Messengers were sent down the road to bring intel- 
ligence of the troops ; and the men were ordered to 
load with powder and ball. One of the messengers 
soon returned with the report, that there were no 
troops to be seen. In consequence of this informa- 
tion, as the night was chilly, in order to spare the 
men, already harrassed by the repeated alarms 
which had been given, and to relieve the anxiety of 
their families, the militia were dismissed ; but order- 
ed to await the return of the other expresses, sent 
down to gain a knowledge of the movements of the 
enemy, and directed to be in readiness, at the beat 
of the drum. About half the men sought refuge from 
the chill of the night, in the public house still stand- 
ing on the edge of the green ; — the residue retired 
to their homes in the neighborhood. One of the mes- 
sengers was made prisoner by the British, who took ef- 
fectual precautions to arrest every person on the road. 
Benjamin Wellington hastening to the centre of the 
village, was intercepted by their advanced party, 
5 



38 



and was tlie first person seized by the enemy in 
arms, in the revolutionary war. In consequence of 
these precautions, the troops remained undiscovered 
till within a mile and a half of this place, and when 
there wasscarce time for the last messenger, Captain 
Thaddeus Bowman, to return with the tidings of their 
certain approach. 

A new, the last alarm, is now given:-^the bell 
rings, — guns are fired in haste on the green, — the 
drum beats to arms. The militia, within reach of 
the sound, hasten to obey the call, sixty on seven- 
ty in number, and are drawn up in order, a very 
short distance, in rear of the spot, on which we 
stand. The British troops, hearing the American 
drum, regard it as a challenge, and are halted at 
the distance of one hundred and sixty rods, to load 
their guns. At the sight of this preparation, a few 
of the militia, on the two extremities of the line, 
naturally feeling the madness of resisting a force out- 
numbering their own, ten to one, and supposed to be 
near twice as large as it was, shewed a disposition 
to retreat. Captain Parker ordered them to stand 
their ground, threatened death to any man who 
should fly, — but directed them not to fire unless first 
fired upon. The commanders of the British forces 
advance some rods in front of their troops. With 
mingled threats and oaths, they bid the Americans 
lay down their arms and disperse, and call to their 
own troops, now rushing furiously on, — the light in- 
fantry on the right of the church, in which we are 
now assembled, and the grenadiers on the left, — to 
fire. The order not being followed with instant obe- 
dience, is renewed with oaths and imprecations, — 
the officers discharge their pistols, — and the fore- 
most platoon fires over the heads of the Americans, 
No one foils, and John Munror, standing next to a- 



3D 



kinsnum ol" the same Ikmily name, calmly observed, 
that they were tiring nothing but powder. Anoth- 
er general volley, aimed with fatal precision, suc- 
ceeds. Ebenezer Munroe replied to the remark 
just made, that something more than powder was 
then fired, as he was shot himself, in the arm. At 
the same moment, several dropped around them, 
killed and wounded. Captain Parker now felt the 
necessity of directing his men to disperse ; but it 
was not till several of them had returned the British 
fire, and some of them more than once, that this 
handful of brave men were driven from the field. 

Of this gallant little company, seven were killed 
and ten wounded, a quarter part at least of the num- 
ber drawn up, and a most signal proof of the firm- 
ness, with which they stood the British fire. Wil- 
lingly would I do justice to the separate merit of 
each individual of this heroic band ; but tradition 
has not furnished us the means. A few interesting 
anecdotes have, however, been preserved. Jededi- 
ah Munroe was one of the wounded. Not disheart- 
ened by this circumstance, instead of quitting the 
field, he marched with his company in pursuit of the 
enemy to Concord, and was killed in the afternoon. 
Ebenezer Munroe, Jr. received two wounds, and a 
third ball through his garments. William Tidd, 
the second in command of the company, was pur- 
sued by Major Pitcairne, on horseback up the north 
road, with repeated cries to stop, or he was a dead 
man. Having leapt the fence, he discharged his 
gun at his pursuer, and thus compelled him in turn 
to take flight. Robert Munroe was killed with Par- 
ker, Muzzy, and Jonathan Harrington, on or near 
the line, where the company was formed. Robert 
Munroe had served in the French wars. He 
was the standard-bearer ofhis company at the cap- 



40 



ture of Louisboiirg, in 1758. He now lived to see, 
set up lor the lirst time, the banner of his country's 
Independence. He saw it raised amidst the handful 
of his brave associates; alas, that he was struck 
down, without living like you, venerable survivors 
of that momentous day, to behold it, as it dallies 
with the wind and scorns the sun, blest of heaven 
and of men, — at the head of the triumphant hosts of 
America ! All hail to the glorious ensign ! Cour- 
age to the heart and strength to the hand, to which, 
in all time, it shall be entrusted ! May it forever 
wave in honor, in unsullied glory, and patriotic 
hope, on the dome of the capitol, on the country's 
strong holds, on the tented plain, on the wave-rock- 
ed top-mast. Wheresoever on the earth's surface, 
the eye of the American shall bcliold it, may he 
have reason to bless it. On whatsoever spot it is 
planted, there may freedom have a foot-hold, hu- 
manity a brave champion, and religion an altar. — 
Though stained with blood in a righteous cause, may 
it never in any cause, be stained with shame. — 
Alike, when its gorgeous folds shall wanton in lazy 
holiday triumph, on the summer breeze, and its tat- 
tered fragments be dimly seen through the clouds 
of war, may it be the joy and pride of the American 
heart. First raised in the cause of right and liberty, 
in that cause alone, may it forever spread out its 
streaming blazonry to the battle and the storm. — 
First raised in this humble village, and since borne 
victoriously across the continent and on every sea, 
may virtue, and freedom, and peace forever follow, 
Avhere it leads the way ! The banner which was 
raised, on this spot, by a village hero,* was not that, 

* -Toscpli Siiiionds was the ensign of the Lexington company on the 19ili of April 
177S. 



41 



whose glorious folds are now gathered round the 
sacred depository of the ashes of his brave compan- 
ions. He carried the old provincial flag of Massa- 
chusetts-Bay. As it had once been planted in tri- 
umph, on the walls of Louisbourg, Quebec, and 
Montreal, it was now raised in a New-England vil- 
lage, among a band of brave men, some of whom 
had followed it to victory in distant fields, and now 
rallied beneath it, in the bosom of their homes, de- 
termined, if duty called them, to shed their blood in 
its defence. May Heaven approve the omen. The 
ancient standard of Massachusetts Bay was display- 
ed for the confederating colonies, before the Star- 
Spangled Banner of the Union had been flung 
to the breeze. Should the time come, (which God 
avert,) when that glorious banner shall be rent in 
twain, may Massachusetts, who first raised her stan- 
dard in the cause of United America, be the last by 
whom that cause is deserted ; and as many of her 
children, who first raised that standard on this spot, 
fell gloriously in its defence, so may the last son of 
Massachusetts, to whom it shall be entrusted, not 
yield it but in the mortal agony ! 

Harrington's was a cruel fate. He fell in front of 
his own house, on the north of the common. His 
wife, at the window, saw him fall, and then start 
up, the blood gushing from his breast. He stretched 
out his hands towards her, as if for assistance, and 
fell again. Rising once more on his hands and 
knees, he crawled across the road towards his dwel- 
ling. She ran to meet him at the door, but it was 
to see him expire at her feet. Hadley and Brown 
were pursued, and fell, after they had left the com- 
mon. Porter, of Woburn, was unarmed. He had 
been taken prisoner on the road, before the British 
army reached Lexington. Attempting to make his 



42 



escape, Avlieji the liring commenced, he was shot 
within a few rods of the common. Four ol" the com- 
pany went into the meeting house which stood on 
this spot, ior a supply of ammunition. They had 
brought a cask of powder from an upper loft into the 
gallery, and removed its head. At this moment, 
the house w^as surrounded by the British force, and 
the discharge of musketry and the cries of the woun- 
ded announced that the work of death was begun. — 
One of the four secreted himself in the opposite gal- 
lery. Another, Simonds, cocked his gun, and lay 
down by the open cask of powder, determined never 
to be taken alive. Comee and Harrington resolved 
to force their way from the house, and in this des- 
perate attempt, Comee was wounded and Harring- 
ton killed. History, — Roman history, — does not 
furnish an example of bravery that outshines that of 
Jonas Parker. A truer heart did not bleed at Ther- 
mopylae. He was the next door neighbor of Mr. 
Clark ; and had evidently imbibed a double portion 
of his lofty spirit. Parker was often heard to say, 
tliat be the consequences what they might, and let 
others do what they pleased, he would never run 
from the enemy. He was as good as his word ; — 
better. Having loaded his musket, he placed his 
hat, containing his ammunition, on the ground, be- 
tween his feet, in readiness for a second charge. — 
At the second fire, he was wounded and sunk upon 
his knees ; and in this condition, discharged his gun. 
While loading it again, upon his knees, and striving 
in the agonies of death to redeem his pledge, he was 
transfixed by a bayonet ; — and thus died on the spot 
where he first stood and fell. 

These were a portion of the terrors of this blood- 
stained field, but how shall I describe the agonizing 
scene which presented itself, that fearful night and 



43 



the following day, to every family in Lexington ?— 
The husband, the lather, the brother, the son gone 
forth on the eirrand of peril and death. The aged, 
the infirm, the unprotected, left, without a guardian, 
at the desolate fireside, at this dismal moment, 
awaiting the instant intelligence of some fatal disas- 
ter ; — fainting under the exaggerated terrors of a 
state of things so new and trying : — or fleeing half 
clad and bewildered to the covert of the neighbor- 
ing woods, there to pass the ensuing day, famished, 
— exhausted, — distracted, — the prey of apprehen- 
sions worse than death. The work of destruction, 
had begun. Who could assure them, that their be- 
loved ones were not among the first victims 1 The 
British force had moved on towards Concord and the 
citizens of Lexington had joined in the pursuit. — 
What new dangers awaited them on the March ? — - 
The en6my was to return through their village, — 
exasperated with opposition, — what new horrors 
might not be expected from his vengeance ! 

While a considerable portion of the unarmed pop- 
ulation of Lexington, dispersed through the nearest 
villages, or wandering in the open air, behind the 
neighboring hills, and in the adjacent woods, were 
at the mercy of these apprehensions, the British col- 
umn moved on toward Concord. The limits of the 
occasion put it out of my power to dwell, as I would 
gladly do, on the gallant resistance made at Con- 
cord, — the heroic conduct of Davis, Hosmer and 
Buttrick and their brave companions, — the rapid and 
formidable gathering of the population, the precipi- 
tate and calamitous retreat of the enemy. On the 
return of this anniversary, ten years ago, I endeav- 
ored, at the request of our fellow citizens of Con- 
cord, as far as I was able, to do justice to this inter- 
esting narrative, and to tlie distinguished and honor- 



44 

able part borne 1)}' tlie people of Concord, in the 
nieniorable transactions of the day. Time will only 
permit me now to repeat in brief, that the country 
poured down its population in every direction. They 
gathered on the hills, that overlooked the road, like 
dark lowering clouds. Every patch of trees, every 
stream, covert, building, stone wall, was lined, to use 
the words of a British otficer, with an unintermitted 
lire. A skirmish engaged the enemy, at every defde 
and cross road. Through one of them Governor Brooks 
led up the men of Beading. At another, Captain 
Parker, with the Lexington militia, although seven- 
teen of his number had been killed or wounded in 
the morning, returned to the conflict. Before they 
reached Lexington, the route of the invaders was com- 
plete; and it was onlyby placing themselves in the front, 
and threatening instant death to ihcir own men, if they 
continued their llight, that the British officers were 
able in some degree to check their disorder. Their 
entire destruction was prevented, by the arrival of 
reinforcements under Lord Percy, who reached Lex- 
ington, in time to rescue the exhausted troops, on 
their flight from Concord. Lord Percy brought with 
him two pieces of artillery, which were stationed on 
points commanding the road. A cannon shot fi'om 
one of them passed through the meeting-house, 
which stood on this spot. These pieces were dili- 
gently served, and kept the Americans at bay ; but 
the moment the retreat was resumed, the whole 
coimtry was again alive."* It was a season of victory 
for the cause, — auspicious of the fortune of the rev- 
olution; — but purchased with accumulated sacrifices 
on the part of Lexington. To cover their retreat, 
the British army set fire to the houses on the road; 

* Sec note 1? ;it l)ie end. 



45 



some were burned to the ground; several injured; 
and three more of the brave citizens of Lexington 
were killed. 

At length the eventful day is passed, — the dole- 
ful tocsin is hushed, the dreadful voice of the cannon 
is still, — the storm has passed by. It has spent its 
fury on your devoted village, — ^your houses have 
been wrapped in flames, — your old men, women, 
and children, have fled in terror from their firesides, 
— ^your brave sons have laid down their lives at the 
threshold of their dwellings, and the shades of even- 
ing settle down upon your population, worn with fa- 
tigue, — heavy with bereavement and sorrow. What 
is the character, and what are the consequences of 
the day? — It was one of those occasions, in which the 
duration of ages is compressed into a span. What 
was done and suffered, on that day, will never cease 
to be felt, in its ulterior consequences, till all that 
is America has perished. In the lives of individuals, 
there are moments, which give a character to ex- 
istence ; — moments too often through levity, indo- 
lence or perversity, suffered to pass unimproved; but 
sometimes met with the fortitude, vigilance, and 
energy due to their momentous consequences. So 
in the life of nations, there are all important junc- 
tures, when the fate of centuries is crowded into a 
narrow space, — suspended on the results of an hour. 
With the mass of statesmen their character is faintly 
perceived, — their consequences imperfectly appre- 
hended, — the certain sacrifices exaggerated, — ^the 
future blessings dimly seen; — and some timid and 
disastrous compromise, — some faint-hearted temper- 
ament is patched up, in the complacency of short- 
sighted wisdom. Such a crisis was the period which 
preceded the 19th of April. Such a compromise 
the British ministry proposed, courted, and would 
6 



46 



have accepted most thankfully, — but not such wa>< 
the patriotism nor the wisdom of those, who guided 
the councils of America, and wrought out her inde- 
pendence. They knew that in the order of that Pro- 
vidence, in which a thousand years are as one day, a 
day is sometimes, as a thousand years. Such a 
day was at hand. They saw, — they comprehended, 
— they welcomed it; — they knew it Avas an era. 
They met it with feelings like those of Luther, when 
he denounced the sale of indulgences, and pointed his 
thunders at once, — poor Augustine monk, — against 
the civil and ecclesiastical power of the church, the 
Quirinal and the Vatican. They courted the storm 
of war, as Columbus courted the stormy billows of 
the glorious ocean, from whose giddy curling tops, 
he seemed to look out,, as from a watch-tower, to 
catch the first hazy wreath in the west, which was to 
announce that a new world was found. The poor 
Augustine monk knew and was persuaded, that the 
hour had come, and he was elected to control it, in 
which a mighty revolution was to be wrought in the 
Christian church. The poor Genoese pilot knew in 
his heart, that he had as it were but to stretch out 
the wand of his courage and skill, and call up a new 
continent from the depths of the sea ; — and Han- 
cock and Adams, through the smoke and ilames of 
the 19th of April, beheld the sun of their country's 
independence arise with healing in his wings. 

And you, brave and patriotic men, whose ashes 
are gathered in this humble deposit, no time shall 
rob you of the well deserved meed of praise ! You 
too perceived, not less clearly than the more illus- 
trious patriots whose spirit you caught, that the de- 
cisive hour had come. You felt with them, that it 
could not, — must not be shunned. You had resolv- 
ed it sliould not. Reasoning, remonstrance had been- 



47 



tried; from your own town-meetings, from the pulpit, 
from beneath the arches of Fanueil Hall, every note 
of argument, of appeal, of adjuration had sounded 
to the foot of the throne, and in vain. The wheels 
of destiny rolled on ; — the great design of Provi- 
dence must be fulfilled ; — the issue must be nobly 
met or basely shunned. Strange it seemed, inscru- 
table it was, that your remote and quiet village 
should be the chosen altar of the first great sacri- 
fice. But so it was ; — the summons came and found 
you waiting ; and here in the centre of your dwelling 
places, within sight of the homes you were to enter 
no more, between the village church where your 
fathers worshipped, and the grave-yard where they 
lay at rest, bravely and meekly, like Christian he- 
roes, you sealed the cause with your blood. Parker, 
Munroe, Hadley, the Harringtons, Muzzy, Brown: 
— Alas ! ye cannot hear my words ; no voice but 
that of the Archangel shall penetrate your urns ; 
but to the end of time your remembrance shall be 
preserved ! To the end of time, the soil whereon 
ye fell is holy ; and shall be trod with reverence, 
while America has a name among the nations ! 

And now ye are going to lie down beneath yon 
simple stone, which marks the place of your mortal 
agony. Fit spot ibr your last repose ! 

Where should the soldier rest, but where he fell! 

For ages to come, the characters graven in the en- 
during marble shall tell the unadorned tale of your 
sacrifice ; and ages after that stone itself has crum- 
bled into dust, as inexpressive as yours, history — 
undying history, — shall transmit the record. Aye, 
while the lanaiuasre we SDeak retains its mean ins; in 
the ears of men ; while a sod of what is nov/ the 
soil of America shall be trod by the foot of a free- 
man, your names and your memory .shall be cher- 
ished! 



48 



NOTES, 



Note A, to page 2. 

The following is the list of Captain Parker's company, as lliey stood cmolied 
on the 19th of April, 1775. 

Those marked with an asterisk, were present at the celebration on the 20th 
of April, 1835. 

Blodget Isaac 

Bowman Francis 

Bridge John 

Bridge Joseph 

Brown Francis, sergeant, wounded 

Brown James 

Brown John, killed 

Brown Solomon, living 

Buckman John 

Chandler John 

Chandler John Jr. 

Child Abijah 

Comee Joseph, wounded 

Cutter Thomas 

*Durant Isaac, living 

Eastabrook Joseph 

Fessenden Nathan 

Fessenden Thomas 

*Fisk Dr. Joseph, living 

Freeman Nathaniel, wounded 

Green Isaac 

Grimes William 

Hadley Benjamin 

Hadley Ebenezer 

Hadley Samuel, killed 

Hadley Thomas 

Harrington Caleb, killed 

Harrington Daniel, clerk 

Harrington Ebenezer 

Harrington Jeremiah 

Harrington John 

Harrington Jonathan 

Harrington Jonathan, jr. killed 

* Harrington Jonathan 3d, living 

Harrington Moses 

Harrington Thaddeus 

Harrington Thomas 

Harrington William 

Hastings Isaac 

*Hosmer John, living 

Lock Amos 

*Lock Benjamin, living 

*Loring Jonathan, living 

Loriug Joseph 

Warrett Amos 



*Mason Daniel, living 

Mason Joseph 

3Iead Abner 

Merriani Benjamin 

Merriam William 

Mulliken Nathaniel 

Munroe Asa 

Munroe Ebenezer 

Munroe Ebenezer jr., wounded 

Muurce Edmund, lieutenant 

Munroe George 

Munroe Isaac jr. killed 

Munroe Jedediah, wounded in morn'g, 

killed in the afternoon. 
Munroe John 
Munroe John jr 
Munroe Philemon 
Munroe Robert, ensign, killed 
Munroe William, orderly sg't. 
*Munroe William jr, living 
Muzzy Amoa 
Parker Ebenezer 
Parker John, captain 
Parker Jonas, killed 
Parker Thaddeus 
Parkhurst John 
Pierce Solomon, wounded 
Porter Asahel, of Woburn, killed 
Prince, a negro, wounded 
Raymond John, killed 
Robbins John, wounded 
Robbins Thomas 
Robinson Joseph 
Reed Hammond 
Reed Josiah, living 
Reed Joshua 
Reed Nathan 
Reed Robert 
Reed Thaddeus 
Reed William 
Sanderson Elijah 
Sanderson Samuel 
*Simonds Ebenezer, livni" 
Simonds Josiah 
Simonds Joshua 



49 



Smith Abraham Tidd Samuel 

Smith David Tidd William 

Smith Ebenezer Viles Joel 

Smith Jonuthuii White Ebenezer 

Smith Joseph "Williams Joim 

Smith Phineas Wellington Uenjamirt 

Smith Samuel Wellington Timothy 

Smith Thaddeus Winship John 

Smith William Winship Simeon 

Stearns Aaahel Winship Thomas 

Stone Jonas Wyman James 

Tidd John, wounded Wyman Nathaniel. 



Note B, to page 44. 
The proper limits of the occasion precluded a detail of the interesting oc- 
currences of the retreat and pursuit from Le.\ington to Cbarlest&wn. Or>e por- 
tion of these were commemorated at Danvers on the 20th April 1835. Ne.xt 
to Lexington, Danvers snfi'ered more severely than any other town. Seven of 
the Danvers company were killed. On the late return of the anniversary, the 
Corner Stone of a Monument to their memory was laid at Danvers, with atfect- 
ing ceremonies, and a highly interesting address was delivered, by Daniel P. 
King, Esq. of that place. 

The following return of all the killed and wounded ia taken from the Appen- 
dix to Mr. Phinney's pamphlet : 

Lexington, Killed in the morning. — Jonas Parker, Robert Munroe, 
Samuel Hadley, Jonathan Harrington, Jr. Isaac Muzzy, Caleb Harrington, 
John Brown. — 7. 

Killed in the ajternoon. — Jedediah Munroe, John Raj mend, Nathaniel 
Wyman.— 3. 

Wounded in the morning. — John Bobbins, Solomon Pierce, John Tidd, 
Joseph Comee, Ebenezer Munroe, Jr. Thos. Winship, Nalhaniel I'armer, Prince 
Estabrook, Jedediah Munroe. — 9. 

Wounded in the afternoon, — Francis Brown.— 1. 

Cambridge. Killed. — Wm. Marcy, Moses Richardson, John Hicks, 
Jason Russell, Jabez Wyman, Jason Winship. — 6. 

Wounded. — Samuel Whittcmore. — 1. 

Missing. — Samuel Frost, Seth Russell. — 2. 

Concord. Wounded. — Charles Miles, Nathan Barnet,.Abel Prescott. — 3. 

Needham. — Lieut. John Bourn, Elisha Mills, Amos Mills, Xathaniel Cham- 
berlain, Jonathan Parker. — 5. 

Wounded. Eleazer Kinsbury, Tolman — 2. 

Sudbury. Killed — Josiah Haynes, Asahel Reed — 2. 

Wounded. Joshua Haynes, Jr.— 1. 

Acton. Killed. — Capt. Isaac Davis, Abner Hosmer, James Hayward. 3. 
Bedford. Killed — Jonathan Wilson. 1. Wounded — Job Lane. 1. 
WoBURN. Killed — Asahel Porter, Daniel Thompson. ?. 
Wounded. George Reed, John Bacon, Johnson, o. 

Mldfori). ATiZ/ed— Henry Putnam, William Polly. 2. 
Charlies rouN. Killed— Jaimes Miller, C. Barber's son. 2 



50 



Wathrtown. Killed — Joseph Coolidge. 1. 
Framingham. Wounded — Daniel Hemenway. 1. 
Dedham. Killed — Elias Haven. Wounded — Israel Everett, 
Stow. Wounded — Daniel Conant. 
KoxBURY. Missing — Elijah Seaver. 
Brookline. Killed — Isaac Gardner, Esq. 1. 
BiLLERiCA. Wounded — John Nickols, Timothy Blanchard 
Chelmsford. Wounded — Aaron Chamberlain, Oliver Barron. 2. 
Salem. Killed — Benjamin Pierce. 
Newton. Wounded — Noah Wiswell. 

Danvers. Killed — Henry Jacobs, Samuel Cook, Ebenezer Goldthwaitj 
George Southwick, Benjamin Daland, Jotham VVebb, Perley Putnam. 7. 
Wounded. Nathan Putnam, Dennis Wallace. 2. 
Missing. Joseph Bell. 1. 
Beverly. Killed. Reuben Kenyme. 1. 
Wounded. Nathaniel Cleves, Samuel Woodbury, William Dodge, 3d. 3. 

Lynn. Killed. Abednego Ramsdell, Daniel Townsend, William Flint, 
Thomas Hadley. 4, 

Wounded. Joshua Felt, Timothy Munroe. 2. 
Missing. Josiah Breed, 1. 

Total. Killed i9.— Wounded 26.— Missing 5. 



i 



APPENDIX 



e E L E B R A T I O N A T L E X r N G T N, 

20th April, 1835. 

[The following account of the celebration is taken principally from the 
" BuNKER-IIiLL Aurora" of 25tli April.] 

At a legal meeting of the mhabilanls of the town of Lexlng'- 
ton, on Monday, 28tli of April, 1834. 

Art. 6. Voted unanimously to have the remains of those who were killed 
by the British army, on the morning of the 19th April, 1775, removed, and 
re-entombed near the monument — (with the consent of their surviving rela- 
tions.) 

Voted, to choose a committee of nine persons, to carry the foregoing vote 
into effect. The following gentlemen were chosen, viz: — 
Elias Phinney, Esq. Chairman. Messrs Charles Reed, 
Gen, Saml. Chandler. William Chandler, Esq. 

Maj, Benj. 0. Wellington. Ambrose Morrell, Esq. 

Benj. Muzzey, Esq. Col. Phillip Russell. 

Nathaniel Mulliken, Esq. Sec'y 

[Rev Charles Briggs, appointed by the town as Chairman of the Cemmiitee, 
was absent at the South, for the beneSt of his health, and the committee were, 
therefore, deprived of his assistance.] 

The names of the persons whose Remains were enclosed in 
the Sarcophagus, were as follows, viz : — 

Jonas Parker, Robert Monroe, Samuel Hadley, Jonathan 
Harrington, Jr. Isaac Muzzey^ Caleb Harrington, 
and John Brown. 
These persons belonged to Lexington, and were killed in the 
morning. Three other citizens of Lexington, were killed oa 
the return of the British in the afternoon, viz : Jedediah Mun- 
roe, John Raymond, and iVathaniel Wyman. 

It appears that the bodies of the seven individuals belonging to 
Lexington, were originally enclosed in long wooden boxes, made 
of rough boards and buried in one grave, in a corner of tho town 
burying-ground, separate and distant from all other graves. — 
Many persons are now living who saw them buried, — among them 
several survivors of Capt. Parker's Company, (their associates,) 
and two daughters of Rt;v. Jonas Clark, maiden ladies, now re- 
siding in the paternal mansion, in which Hancock and Adiams 
were for some time secreted. 

7 



53 



A few days prior to the late celebration; the remains of these 
bodies were disinterred, under the direction of the committee, for 
the purpose already slated— the sides of some of the coffins were 
found, retainin<i their original form, but in a state of almost com- 
plete decay, — the bones appeared to be more or less decayed, — 
the sculls and large bones were all in a more perfect state than 
had been anticipated, — the under jaw-bones and teeth were the 
most perfect. The remams were first placed in a wooden cofEn, 
which was enclosed in lead and made air tight — and the whole 
in a mahogany sarcophagus, 4 feet long by 2 feet wide ; on iho 
sides and ends of which were eight urns, bearing the names and 
emblematical of the individuals- whoae remains were contained 
within. A deposit was made in the Sarcophagus of a thick lead- 
en box, hermetically sealed, containing the following articles viz: 
a copy of the history of the battle of Lexington, by Elias Phinney 
Esq. — a sketch of the exercises and odes of the day — a copy 
of the Bunker-Hill Aurora, and of the Concord Whig, of the Sat- 
urday previous — the names of the President of the U. States, of 
the Lt. Governor (and acting Governor) of Massachusetts, and 
of the clergymen of Lexington. To receive the Sarcophagus, 
a tomb was constructed near the foundation of the Monument. 

Salutes and minute guns were fired at intervals during the 
morning, and flags raised in honor of the occasion, were waving 
at half-mast, until the close of the funeral services. At an earlv 
hour the village was filled with visiters to the number of several 
thousand. Public and private houses were all occupied, and 
had the day been pleasant, it is believed a very much larger 
number of strangers would have been present. 

At about 1 1 o'clock, the Procession was formed, under a mil- 
itary escort consisting of the Lexington Artillery and a Volunteer 
Company of Light Lifantry, commanded by Capt. J. F. LeBar- 
on and Capt. Billings Smith, near the Monument House. The 
invited guests had assembled at the dwelling house of Gen. Chan- 
dler, and from thence formed in Procession. The procession 
moved, under a light shower of rain, to the burying ground, where 
the seven victims of the battle were originally interred. 

Here the Sarcophagus, containing their remains, was placed 
on the hearse, the Band performing appropriate music during the 
ceremony, and the procession re-formed in the following order : 

Military Escort, with the Boston Band. 

Pall Bearers. SARCOPHAGUS. Pall Bearers. 

Relatives of the deceased. 

.Survivors of Capt. Parker's Company. 

Aid — Chiek .Marsvial — Aid. 

Chairman Coinmiltes of Arr.Tngcments. 

Ch.iplain- Ok ATOh -Ciiaplnin 



&4 



Committee of Arrangements. 

Lt. Governor and Aids. 

Senators and Representatives in Congress. 

Judges of the Supreme Couit of the United States. 

Judges of the Massacliusetts Courts and Attorney General, 

President and Fellows of Harvard College. 

Members of State Legislature. 

Officers and Soldiers of the Revolution. 

Olficers of the Army, Navy and Militia. 

Clergy and other invited guests. 

Citizens and Strangers. 

On arriving at the Church, (which stands on a part of the bat- 
tle field, built in n94,) the military opened to the right and left; 
the Sarcophagus was placed in the broad-aisle, and the Proces- 
sion entered. The pulpit was occupied by the Chaplain and the 
Reverend Clergy. In front of the pulpit a platform had been 
raised for the Orator ,• and on each side of him on the platform 
were seated the Survivors of Captain Parker's Company. The 
galleries were occupied e.'cclusively by the Ladies. Notwith- 
standing the unpromising state of the weather on the preceding 
day and in the morning, the church was very much crowded, and 
a platform having been erected around it, the windows were also 
filled with hearers. The following was the 

ORDER OF EXERCISES. 

Dirge — By the Choir. 

Prayer — By Rev. James Walker. 

Ode — By Rev. John Pierpont. 

Tune — " America." 
Long, in a nameless grave. 
Bones of the true and brave ! 

Have ye reposed. 
This day, our hands have dressed. 
This day, our prayers have blessed 
A chamber for your rest ; 
And now 'tis closed. 

Sleep on, ye slaughtered ones ! 
Your spirit, in your sons. 

Shall guard your dust. 
While winter comes in gloom, 
While .■spring returns with bloom. 
Nay — till this honored tomb 

(iives up its trust. 



When wars first bla^f was heard, 
These men stood forth lo guard 

Thy house, O God ! 
And now, thy he use rhali keep 
Its vigils where they sleep. 



55 



And «lill its ffbadow sweep 
O'er their green sod. 

In tiibrning's prime they bled ; 
And'niorning tinds their bed 

With tears ail wet : 
Tears that thy hosts of light, 
Rising in order bright, 
To watch their tomb all night. 

Shed for them yet. 

Naught shall their slumber break; 
For 'they shall not awake, 

Nor yet be raised 
Out of their sleep,' before 
Thy heavens, now arching o'er 
Their couch, shall be no more. — 
Thy name be praised ! 

Oration — By Hon. Edward Everett. 
Ode— By Miss H. F. Gould. 

Tune — " Araby's Daughter." 

They coroc from the grave to attest to the story 

That we, of their struggle for Liberty, tell ! — 
From silence and shade that her mantle of glory 

May fold o'er th« first of her IMarlyrs who fell ! 

They come that the balm of her breath may perfume them. 

And peacefully then to return to their rest ; — 
That we, from hor arnie, may receive and entomb them, 

Assured that they once have reposed on her breast. 

All hail, sacred Relics ! from sixty years sleeping 
Beneath the green turf, where so freely ye bled ; 

Who, shrouded in gore, still the battle-ground keeping. 
Forsook not the lieJd, though your vital lire lied ! 

In valour's proud bed, with its rich purple o'er you. 
The first blood for Freedom that gushed on the sod. 

Ye lay, when the souJs, to the onset that bore you. 

Had passed with h«r cause, through your wounds, to their God 

Behold, blessed Spirits, who, nobly defending 

Your country, rushed forth from your dwellings of clay, 
The tribute of sorrow and joy we are blending 
To you, o'er their dear hallowed ruins, to pay ! 

The hearts of a nation, your monument rearing. 

Have built it of gratitude, fair and subliine. 
It rises to heaven, your honored pames bearing. 

With earth not to sink, nor to crumble with lin)e. 

The ground, that, as brothers, in pain yo wore sowing. 
Irnbosomed the seed for a root linn and deeji. 



56 



'Wlien life's crimson fbunlaina wore opened and flowiiif* 
To moisten the soil for the harvest we reap ! 

Forgive then, the view that we take, ere we sever 
From these broken walls, that for us ye forsook ! 

On them or their like again never, O never, 
Are we, or ihe eye that is mortal, to look ! 

We give them to earth, till the Saviour descending 

With beauty for ashes and glory for gloom. 
Shall speak, while the dead to his voice are attending, 

And life, light, and freedom, are poured through the tomb ! 

After the close of the Exercises in the Church, the procession 
was again formed as before and moving around the enclosed bat- 
tle iield to the Monument, the Sarcophagus was placed within 
the iron railing, in a tomb of stone masonry, prepared to receive 
it. Three volleys of musketry were then fired over the grave 
and the procession moved on to the Marquee, erected near the 
Monument House, where a Collation was provided for about 600 
persons. 

THE MARQUEE 
Was of an oblong shape, with enwreathed pillars in the centre 
and an elevated table at the head. There were seven rows of 
tables, containing nearly 100 plates each, which were all occu- 
pied. The marquee was decorated with flags, evergreens and 
trees, in a very neat and simple manner. At the head, were the 
following inscriptions : 

THE BIRTH-PLACR OF AMERICAN LIBERTY: 
OUR COUNTRY AND OUR CONSTITUTION. 

On the side of the marquee, right of the President, were the 
names of Washington, Adams, Hancock, Franklin. On the 
left, Lafayette, Jeflerson, Warren, Kosciusko. Near the head of 
the Marquee, on the right and left of the President were the 
names of the Governors of Massachusetts : right, Hancock, 
Bovvdoin, S. Adams, Sumner, Strong, Sullivan ; left. Gore, Ger- 
ry, Brooks, Eustis, Lincoln, Davis. The appearance of the 
interior of the Marquee, was very appropriate and suitable to 
the occasion, and was creditable to those under whose su[)erin- 
lendence this part of the arrangement was made. 

AVe understand that the painted mottoes, &c. in the Marquee 
were politely prepared and furnished for the occasion, by Mr 
John Gkken, Jr. of Boston ; the flags and other decortitions 
were loaned by Messrs Samuel (Goodrich, and Albert Fearing. 
& Co. Several beautiful boqucts were received from the ;xreen 
house of Ml Gushing of Watcrtovvn, and VVinship\s of Briglilon, 
which added very much to the eippearance of the tables. 



57 



Great credit is due to Mr Hayward, of the Monument House 
for the excellent collation which he provided on the occasion. — ' 
We have Ecver seen a public collation, on so extensive a scale' 
better prepared. Tiie company was amply supplied with every 
thin"' they could wish, served up in the best manner. We be- 
lieve all were satisfied with this part of the proceedings of the 
day. 

Elias Phinney, Esq. Chairman of the Committee of Arrange- 
ments, presided at the tables. On each side of the President, 
the invited guests were seated, including Lt. Gov. Armstrong, 
and Aids, Orator and Chaplains, Mr Webster, Judge Story, Pre- 
sident Quincy, Attorney General Austin, Adj. Gen. Dearborn, 
A. H. Everett of Boston, and others. The veteran survivors of 
the revolution were provided with seats at the head of the centre 
tables. A blessing was asked by Rev. Henry Ware, Jr. 

At the close of the collation, the President of the Day ad- 
dressed the assemblage. 

He reraarkefl that the occurrences and congregation of this day were calculated 
to deepen our feelings of veneration for the evento commemorated. It liad been an 
occasion for the exercise of generous feelings in the discharge of an honor due to 
the glorious dead. He was sure he could not render a more acceptable service to 
his fellow-citizens assembled, than to return their grateful acknowledgments to the 
distinnuislied guests who had honored the occasion by their presence, and particu- 
tarly to him whose unrivalled eloquence had engaged our attention and stirred our 
feelin'^s. The solemn ceremonies of this day would remind us of our obligations to 
thase'who spilled their blood in the first offering at the shrine of Liberty. It was 
an offering, however humble in itself, the precursor of great events and consequen- 
ces to our country and the world. He therefore proposed as a sentiment — 

The names of those loho fell in this first fight for Liberty — The 
Harringtons, Monroe, Parker, Brown, Muzzey, and Hadley — 
these names will ever remain honored and cherished, and while 
the names of other heroes shall be forgotten, these will be grate- 
fully remembered so long as patriotism shall exist or liberty find 
a friend. 

The President then gave the following complimentary senti- 
ment to Lt. Gov. Armstrong : His Honor the Lt. Governor — His 
public elevation is but the just reward of his private worth. 

Gov. AR!M.STR<^>NG remarked that the Orator o{ the Day had called to mind 
in an elotiuent and forcible manner, the singular success which followed the cause 
of liberty, and the price of blood at which it was obtained ; but great as that 
price was, he believed that even that price was not sufficient to purchase the liber- 
ties we now enjoy. lie offered the following sentiment — 

Religious and Civil Libertij — The bountiful donations of Al- 
mighty God — may we prove ourselves worthy recipients of the 
gifts of the Giver. 

A Hymn, accompanied by the Piano Forte, was sung by Geo. 
VV. DixoiK in the an of the "^Maiseillcs Hymn." 



58 



In announcing the following sentiment, Mr. Phinney, Presi- 
dent of the Day, remarked : 

Among the numerous blessings secured to us by our invaluable Constitution, tbere 
is no one, perhaps, upon which the permanency of free institutions so essentially 
depends as that of an Independent National Judiciary. The Judges of that august 
tribunal, selected from the whole people, foi their distinguished patriotism, talent 
and integrity, may well be considered the pride and boast of our country. VVliile 
they are allowed to exercise the powers vested in them by the Constitution, our lib- 
erties are safe, — safe from the arbitrary assumption of power on one hand and the 
licentiousness of the people on the other. Allow me to offer you as a sentiment — 

The Judges of the Supreme Court of the United Slates — A Con- 
stellation, whose brightest star is in the East. 

Judge STORY replied to this sentiment. He viewed it as a homage, not to an 
individual, but to tiie law itself, of which those who fell at Lexington, and their 
associates, were the proud asserters and tlie proud maintainers. This is the spot,, 
where, in defence of law, the first blood was spilt, which lead to our independence. 
He considered that the people rose in support of law ; that the three-pence a pound 
tax on tea was nothing, to the great principle involved in its admission ; that the 
people regarded it as unconstitutional and unjust to be taxed without representa- 
tion, and therefore resisted it. He believed that the revolution commenced in the 
town meetings of Massachusetts, where the rights of the people were considered 
and discussed. So was it understood by the English Parliament, which in 1774, 
passed a law to prohibit the town meetings of Massachusetts, except for the neces- 
sary purpose of choosing town officers. He quoted a part of the Preamble to this 
law, stating that the people had been misled into a mischievous and unwarrantable 
interference witb subjects not connected in the regular business they were assem- 
bled to do ; and made some appropriate remarks upon this " unwarrantable and 
mischievous taking of the subjects of liberty, right and constitutional law, into their 
own hands. He then alluded to the Oration of Mr. Everett, which he considered 
one of the happiest eflbrts of his lile, and concluded with the following sentiment : 

The Orator of the Day — Truly, in the language of another as 
quoted by himself, the day is come and the man is come — " What 
a glorious Day is this ."' 

[These words were used by Samuel Adams. Mr. Everett had stated that Adams 
and Hancock were at Rev. Mr. Clark's house when the attack of the British were 
made, at Lexington. It was supposed to be one object of the British detachment, 
to secure their persons. They therefore, by the urgent persuasions of their friends, 
were induced to leave Mr. Clark's house for a safer retreat — on the way, hearing 
the tiring, Adams, " whose prophetic soul saw that liberty and independence must 
follow," cried out, " What a glorious morning is this !" 

The President introduced the following sentiment ; — 
The Orator of the Day — He has done ample justice to the men 
whose individual characters he has this day eulogised — he has 
thrown a halo of glory around humble deeds, more enduring than 
the granite which covers their remains. 

Mr. EVERETT briefly returned thanks for the kind terms, in which his efforts 
had been noticed ; but would not take up the time ot the company on a subject so' 
unimportant, as what personally concerned himself. He would rather take advantage 
of the opportunity of addressing the company, to pay his humble tribute of respect 
to the venerable survivors of the I9th of April, 1775. He rejoiced to be able to 
state, that of those enrolled in Captain Parker's Company of Militia, on that day, 
eleven were still living, of whom one only, — living at a great distance, — was ab- 
sent, and the remaining ten now honored the company with their presence. Hu 
v/UB sure he should gratify every person present, by repeating iheir names. They 



59 



wpie Dr Joseph Fiske, Messrs Daiiifl Mason. Benjamin l.ocke, William Mnnroe. 
Jonathan Han in;;toii, Ebenezcr SSinionds, Jonathan Ijoring, John llosuier, Isaac 
Dniant, Josiah Heed, ftlr Solomon Brown was absent. Having named tliese 
venerable |)ersons, who had been spared by Gracious Providence to so advanced 
•an age, and to participate in the celebration of this memorable anniiversary, he 
would only add farther, as a sentiment ; — 

The health of the Survivors of Captain Parlcer'^s Company — 
May they experience in the feelings, with which they are met 
this (lay, some compensation for the an.\iety, perils, and suffer- 
ing ol'the 19th of y^pril, J775. 

The President ol'the Day introduced the following sentiment, 
by remarking — 

I am confident my fellow citizens of Lexington will cordially unite with me in 
ofiering a tribute of profound respect to the distinguished Senator, whose parlicipa- 
tion has given an increased interest to the ceremonies of this occasion. If any cir- 
cumstance can magnify the importance of the solemn events we commemorate, it 
is the respectful notice of those whose exalted wisdom and patriotism enable them 
to discern and duly to appreciate their vahte — Allow me then to say .• 

Hon. Daniel Webster — His unshaken integrity and gigantic 
powers of mind are surpassed by nothing in firmness and strength 
but the everlasting hills of his own native State. 

Mr WEBSTER rose on the announccme}it of this sentiment, and was received 
with the applause of the whole audience. From the very imperfect notes which 
we were enabled to tike, we cannot presume to give a correct sketch of his re- 
marks. We can only mention some of the points touched upon. He esteemed it 
a pleasure and an honor to be invited to be present on this occasion of great inter- 
est. He supposed there could be no man in this Republic who entertained a just 
estimate of the value of Liberty, or a just estimate of its cost, who could contemplate 
the history of Lexington battle, without strong emotions. He inferred this from 
the natural course of his own feelings. It was now many years since he, when a 
young man, unknown in this Commonwealth, and without a single acquaintance in 
this village, passed a whole day in viewing this scene of holy martyrdom, and in 
meditating upon the results consequetit, to hia country and the world, from that 
great drama, whose first scene was acted here. He could suppose that from the 
Atlantic to the untrodden wilderness, from the farthest East to the Gulf of Mexico, 
there was not an American citizen, who docs not possess and feel a degree of hap- 
piness, and hope for posterity, intimately connected with the occurrence transacted 
on this spot. He confessed he was not able to limit even to this continent his view 
of the consec|nences of this commencement of the revolutionary war. It was de- 
signed and accomplished under great hazards, trials, and with wonderful success, 
for the universal cause of liberty. A new world and new state of society was 
brought to light. It sprung up, not like the natural Sun in the East, but a politi- 
cal Sun in the West, as .<uic to diffuse its light and accomplish its purpose, as ;he 
natural Sim over our heads. It commenced on the Western shore of the Atlantic, 
to gladden those who first saw the light, and re-act upon the old continent. Ame- 
rica will yet pay back in this light, the debt she ovve^ for all the knowledge, sci- 
ence, and intelligence of every description, which she has received from Europe. 

He spoke of the manner in which civil and constitutional law was understood in 
the early days of our revolution. Those early appeals to arms, he said, were not 
accidental — they were founded in principle, and began in the place where we are 
now happily met together. 'J'he place, the details, so interesting, which we had 
beard from the voice of eloquence, had tilled him with meditation. He could not 
but think after generations would consider us, notwithstanding what wc had done 
loo slow, too inanimate, too little alive to the great evenl.s of the revolution which 
commenced here. It was delightful to contemplate the characters of the military 
leaders of ihosi; days, exerting thetnselves, so difl'crenily from the military leaders 



60 



fif histofy, to secure the rights and liberties of the people. The effects of their 
noble example .ire felt among the nations of Europe, where not an effort, in behalf 
of the people is made, not a stroke is struck, without reference is made to Ame- 
rica. Mr Webster concluded his remarks, of which we know our sketch is very 
meagre and incomplete, with the following sentiment : — 

Lexington Common — In 1775, a field of blood — in all after time 
a field of glory. 

The President announced the following : — 

Josiah Quincy, Jr. who died April 26, 1775, among the first 
born of the champions of American Liberty^ — Like the martyrs 
whose memory we this day celebrate — he saw but the daicn of 
that light he prized higher than life. His sons come to honor, 
but he knoweth it not. Peace to his ashes ! 

Hon. JOSIAH QUINCY, President of Harvard College, being called upon for 
a sentiment, remarked that after what had been said by distinguished gentlemen in 
the church and at this table, it would not be expected of him that he should make a 
display or a speech. It was time for feeling — a time for thought — a moment o( 
delight — a moment to applaud. He should, therefore, simply reciprocate the sen- 
timent of the chair — 

The town of Lexington — Where brave men are raised, and brave 
men honored. 

Attwney General AUSTIN being called upon by the President, said — Suppose 
the reburied dead, while their bones were resting in the body of the church, and 
amidst the multitude of people, had revived and addressed the living assembly ! — 
The remark is not a strange one, said he, we read in sacred story of the bones of 
the dead reviving, and why might not these bones have again assumed life ! la 
what language, think ye, would they have addressed the assembly. If they had 
said one word, it would have been, that the spirit of liberty must be preserved by 
the people who enjoy it! Who were they, whose bones we have this day honored ? 
Were they the eminent, the distinguished, great and honored ? No sir, no \ They 
were the people — individuals of the people ! They had been taught and had learn- 
ed the lesson that, if they would enjoy life and liberty, they must.by their own arm 
and strength, by their courage and the blessing of God, obtain and preserve it for 
themselves. Let us learn from tlieir new-made grave, this important lesson, here 
to enjoy what they have eriabled us to possess. It is not enough for us to say, we had 
noble and brave ancestors — let it be said by our posterity, by those who come after 
us, sixty years hence, that they too had noble and generous ancestors. Liberty 
must be supported with Law, and Law with Liberty. 

The detail which we heard this day in tiie meeting house, shows not only that the 
men did their duty, but tiiat the women did theirs also ; that while the men were 
toiling and breasting the foe in the field, there were hearts at home bleeding, and 
almost bursting with anxiety, and hands toiling too, for their country. He gave 
therefore as a sentiment — 

The Females of Lexington — Worthy mothers of an honorable 
progeny. 

The Rev. Mr STETSON, after a very happv allusion to the last toast, offered 
some remarks in reference to the Puritans, and quoting the words of the address, 
gave as a sentiment. 

The last of the Puritans — Samuel Adams. 

Mr WEBSTER jiiade some remarks upon the opening of the revolution — the 
separate character of the colonial governments — the extent of country — the union 



61 

and exertion wliicli took place for the common cause of liberty, &c.aDd conclutkd 
hy offering tbe following yeiitiinent: — 

The liberty a7id union of the United Stales — May both be per- 
petual. 

This was the last sentiment announced at the tabic. The guesti? retired, and 
the company separated, highly gratified with the success and happy termination of 
the day, notwithstanding the unpropitinus state of the weather in the early part of 
it. Great credit is justly due to the vigorous exertions of the individual members 
of the Committee of Arrangements, alike for the judicious, and liberal character of 
their arrangements, and for the energetic manner in wliicli they carried them into 
complete effect. From the peculiar character of the celebration, combining in it- 
self the two great features of funeral ceremony and a civil celebration, their duties 
were necessarily numerous, responsible and diflicult. The arrangements engaged 
their almost undivided attention for several weeks, and they devoied themselves to 
it with a leal and interest worthy of the occasion, and highly to the credit of them* 
selves and the town of Lexington. The success which in so eminent a degree 
crowned their labors, is to us the best proof \vc can have of the judicious and 
effective character of their arrangements, and to them the best reward for the time 
ajid toil which they have generously bestowed upon them. 



THE POWDER HORN,— [From the Bunker-Hill Aurora.j 

Among the interegting mementos of the 19tli of April, 1775, to which the atten- 
tion of the company assembled at Lexington, on the late anniversary, was called, 
was the Powder Horn, worn by Rlr James Hayward, of Acton, who was kill- 
ed in Lexington, during the pursuit, and which was perforated by the ball, that en- 
tered Mr Hayward'a body. Mr Everett observed, that he had been requested by 
the owner of this interesting relic, Mr Stevens Hayward, of Acton, (the nephew 
of the person, by whom it was worn on tlie 19th of April, '75) to exhibit to the 
company, and to mention its history. Before doing so, MrE. asked leave to state, 
that the number of facts connected with the occasion, they were met to celebrate, 
was so great, that he had, in preparing his address, been somewhat embarrassed, 
in making a selection, which could be brought within the reasonable limits of such 
a performance. He had confined himself, of necessity, in a great degree to those 
facts, which had an immediate connection with the village of Lexington; it being 
quite impossible to bring into the narrative all the transactions of that eventful 
day. He ought, however, in justice to himself, to observe, that he had intended 
to allude briefly to the incidents of the resistajice made to the British troops at 
Concord, — the bravery evinced by the citizens of that place and the neighborhood, 
— the gallantry of Davis, Hosmer, Bottrick, and others, and in a word, tlie honor- 
able part borne by Concord in the transactions of the day. He had also intended 
to glance at the precipitate and calaniitions retreat of the enemy, and the impor- 
tant occurrences on the line of their flight, through Lexington back to Boston. — 
Having reached that part of his address, his strength failed him, and he was obliged 
abruptly to hasten to a close, — which he hoped would be considered by all, who 
took a peculiar interest in those portions of the affecting history of that day, as a 
sufficient apology for the seeming neglect. 

The interesting relic which he had been requested to exhibit to the company, 
•was worn by Mr James Hayward of Acton, who, on the night of the lSth,on hear- 
ing the alarm of the movement of the royal troops, started, with his father, — like 
all the brave yeomen of the neighborhood, moving without the commands of any 



62 



fieid officer, and driven by llie impulse of individual enlluiBiasm to shaie in the 
fconflict. Mr Hayward joined in tlie hot pursuit from Concord. At the foot of 
Fiske's Hill, in Lexington, being thiisty, he was about passing the west window 
of the house, still standing at the foot of (he hill, toward the well in front of the 
house. A British soldier, who was in the house, for the puipose of plunder, per- 
ceived him through the window, and slept to the door to cut iuui off as he passed 
the corner of the house. They levelled their |)ieces and fired at the same moment. 
The British soldier was killed on the spot ; Mr Hayward received the ball, which 
passed through his powder horn, driving the splinters before it into his body, and 
languished eight hours. It appeared that of a pound of powder, which he had ta- 
ken with him, the whole was nearly fired away, and that but two or three of forty 
bullets, with which he had started, remained. This fact shews the extraordinary 
severity of the pursuit. Another fact manifests the high feeling of ihecountry. Mr 
Hayward died as cruel a death, as man could suffer; but retaining his reason to the 
last, repeatedly exclaimed, " that he was happy to die in the defence of his rights." 
These details were communicated to Mr E in a letter from Mr Stevens Hayward, 
the nephew of the sufferer ; and who was led to make the communication, at the 
suggestion of the Rev. J. T. Woodbury of Acton. Like other traditions of the 
day, this shows how widely and unanimously the country was moved, and pointedly 
indicate the sentiment, with which Mr E. begged leave to conclude — 

Lexington, Concord, and the neighboring towns: — may the 
common sufferings and efforts of 1775, prove a common bond of 
harmony and good feeling at the present day. 



64 



AiNSWER>S TO INVITATIONS 



Boston, April I", 183o. 

My Dear Sir — 1 received j-our obliging note, as chairman of a commiuee of {hit 
good people of Lexingtoiij inviting me to attend on the anniversary of the 19ih ot' 
April, A. D. 1775, when the remains of those citizens of Lexington who fell, on 
that day, in the cause of their country, will be removed from the place of their pre- 
sent deposit, to the monument erected to their memory ; and an address delivered 
upon the occasion by the Hon. Edward Everett. 

The anniversary of the 19tli of Ajjrii A. D. 1775, will be very interesting, more 
especially to those who had attained an age, which made them sensible to the events 
of that important day. The address, from the known talents and reputation of the 
orator, undoubtedly, will be very interesting and stirring and adapted to the place 
and the occasion ; and I very much regret that the state of my health is snch thai 
I cannot do myself the honor and pleasure of attending. Though I was then very 
young, my recollection of that day and the events of it, is as vivid aud as fresh as 
if they were but yesterday. The news from Lexington and Concord, of that day, 
struck my juvenile ears like unexpected thunder ; and I now have a distinct recol- 
Jection of the spot on which I stood, and of the sensations of the moment. 

The cause in which our fellow citizens fell on that memorable day, was the cause 
of their country, of mankind and of God ; a cause in which a christian might lay 
down his life, without any fearful ■apprehensions of meeting his Judge, on that ac- 
count. It was not a question of a three-penny duty imposed upon a pound of tea, 
ot of a few millions of dollars withholden against right, disconnected from vital 
principles or essential rights. • It was a question of liberty or shivery, of life or 
death. In such a cause good men and true patriots will not stop to calculate the 
chances of success or defeat or of profit or loss, they will take counsel of their cour- 
age only 

I indulge the hope (though it may be illusory) that the future history of our coun- 
try will not show, that our fellow-citizens of Lexington, on that day, shed their 
blood in vain. I am, dear sir, with sentiments of great respect to yourself and the 
other gentlemen of the committee, your most obedient humble servant, 

Elias Phinney, Esq. ARTEMAS WARD. 

The following sentiment accompanied this note : — The memory of the patriotic 
citizens of Lexington, who shed the first blood that flowed in the war of the revo- 
lution. Peace to their manes; honor to their dust. 



Worcester, 8th April, 18-35. 

Dear Sir — Two or three days past I received your favor inviting me to attend 
the solemnities of the 20th at Lexington, when the remains of those who fell on the 
memorable 19th of April 1775, are to be placed under a Monument erected for that 
purpose. The events of that day will live as long as the American revolution is in- 
teresting to mankind. For here the sword was drawn and the appeal made to the 
Htenging arm of physical force. Ofthisdayas well .is of what preceded and fol- 
lowed, Massachusetts may, without vanity be proud. Her firmness, her unflinching 
resolution, was equal to the great crisis, and settled the future destiny of the United 
States. She may therefore well honor the remains of her maityrs (though their 
names need no monument to perpetuate them), for she thus shows her affection for 
them and her attachment to the great popular rights, in support of which they per- 
ished. I should esteem it an honor to unite with the citizens of Lexington in this 
manifestation of sentiments so creditable to their patriotism, and if my private en- 
gagements will allow of it, shall be present. 1 fear however I shall not be able to 
detach myself from business that demands my attention. 

I pray you sir, and the Committee of .Irrangemenis, to acccjit my thanks for this 
fourtesy, and to be .assured that I am 

Your obliged and laillilul serv.uit, 

J. DAVI::^. 

E!;a>. Plunncy, Es<j. 



65 



Concord, April 1th, 1835. 

Dear Sir, — I received yesterday your invilalioii to attend the approaching cele- 
bration at Lexington of the 19th of April. 

The occasion itself is sufficiently interesting to render a participation in the ex- 
ercises of the day highly desirable. There can be but one feeling among the in- 
habitants of New England on the subject of rendering honor to the memory of 
those who fell in Lexington on 19ih of April, 1775, and their fellows in arms. My 
desire to be with you is not a little enhanced by the consideration that the events 
are to be reviewed by a gentleman who well understands their character and val- 
ue, and is able to do justice to his subject. 

I hardly need inform you however, sir, that I must be deprived of the pleasure of 
accepting your invitation. As the Sup. J. Court will be in session in this town on 
that day, to indulge my wish to be present with you, would be a violation on my 
part, of previous engagements. I can therefore only return to you and (o the other 
gentlemen of llie Committee of Arrangements, my cordial thanks for the honor of 
your invitation, and my wish that your pleasure and that of the company which 
may assemble with you, may bear some proportion to the high character of the 
events you commemorate. With great respect, sir. Your obedient serv't. 

SAMUEL HOAR. 

Elias Phinney, Esq. 

Boston, April 1th, 1835. 

Dear Sir : I have had the honor of receiving your favor in behalf of the Com- 
mittee of Arrangements, and the good jieople of Lexington, inviting me to attend 
their celebration of the anniversary of the 19th of April, and 1 regret my inability, 
by reason of my official engagements, to comply with an invitation, the object of 
which is so interesting. But although absent, I shall sympathize with those who 
may have the privilege to be present, in the recollections and feelings which the 
occasion cannot fail to awaken. To do honor to the sacred remains of those who 
first fell in our glorious and successful struggle for Independence, is a duty the jier- 
formar.ce of which must be grateful to the feelings of all who love our country, and 
are .sensible of the many blessings, privileges, and means of prosperity and happi- 
ness, witli which we are surrounded. 

With respectful thanks to the Committee of Arrangements, and the good people 
of Lexington, I pray you to accept the assurances ol the great respect with which I 
am, dear sir. Your friend and servant, S. S. WILD. 

E. Phinney, Esq. 

Boston, April 5, 1835. 

Sir — T had the honor of your letter of the SOlh ultimo, inviting me to be present 
on the occasion of the- anniversary in coiriniemoration of the battle of Lexington. 

I feel very much obliged to the Coniniitlcc of Arrangements for this mark of 
their attention. And 1 beg to assure them that on every account it would afford 
me the greatest gratification to attend this public and most interesting celebration 
of an event in which, together with the whole community, I have the deepest in- 
terest. But 1 am exceedingly sorry to say that my engagements here, especially a,i 
the commemoration takes place on Wednesday, must compel me to forego this 
honored fpleasure. I remain, sir, with great truth, your most obedient and very 
faithful servant. THEODORE LYMAN, Jr. ' 

Elias Phinney, Esq. 

Boston, April I3th, 1S35. 

f Dear Sir, — I have received with great interest the kind invitation of the Coin- 
vniitee in behalf of the inhabitants of Lexington, to attend the services, proposed 
by them to be had at the ensuing anniversary, in commemoration, of the ever mem- 
orable 19th of April, 1775. 1 regret that an official engagement, in another part 
•of the Communwealih, will prevent me from participating in the pleasures of so in- 
teresting an occasion. 

With my best lespecls to the iidiabilanls of Lcxiuglon,and the Committee, I ain^ 
very truly, your friend and ubcdicnl jcr\ant. LEMUEL SHAW. 

Klia:< I'hiunet. Ksij. 



66 



Washington, April 22, 1S35. 

Dear Sir — Your letter of the 30ili ult. contaming the kind invitation, of tJw 
inhabitants of Lexington, of my attendance at the solemnities of the 19th inst, was 
transmitted to my residence at Quincy, and thence forwarded to me at this place, 
where I have been detained since the close of the session of Congress — It was re- 
ceived by me here, too late for an answer to have reached you before the day of 
the celebration. 

I regret that circumstances of private concernment have kept me hitherto from 
home, and have deprived me of the pleasure, which I should have taken in uniting 
with the inhabitants of Lexington, in this tribute of a grateful posterity to the 
memory of the first martyrs to the liberties of their country and of mankind. One 
of the earliest impressions remaining upon my mind from infancy, is the awful 
trial of that day, which has embalmed the name of Lexington and of its heroic in- 
habitants, in the remembrance of future ages to the end of time. 

I am, with great respect, dear sir, your obedient servant. 

JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, 

Eliaa Phinney, Esq[. 



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